The Fifth Commandment
by Auntie Shred
Summary: Alex Eames' POV. Eames and Goren examine their relationship as they attempt to solve the murder of a store owner. Set in mid-season 7.
1. Chapter 1

**SETTING**: Season 7 (post-Purgatory, pre-Frame)

**SPOILERS**: Mild spoilers for Season 3, Blind Spot, End Game, Purgatory

**DISCLAIMER**: The Law & Order characters are owned by Dick Wolf. No infringement of rights is intended. This story is written for entertainment purposes only.

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><p><strong>Park Slope, Brooklyn, NY<strong>

**Monday, May 19**

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><p>Please, not again. Alex Eames spared brief glances at her partner as she maneuvered through Brooklyn streets made narrow by double-parked delivery trucks. To most people, Bobby Goren was his usual self: introspective, observant, restless and occasionally impulsive. But Alex saw past all of that. Bobby was hiding something from her; she couldn't tell if it was important or trivial, but it left her with a sinking feeling.<p>

On a normal day he might point out a restaurant as they drove by, with comments about foods from Brazil or Ethiopia. He'd browse through papers and photos in his leather binder, discuss their case or make phone calls. This evening he was too quiet, too still. If she didn't know better she might think he was sick.

She'd first noticed it a couple weeks ago and had actually asked him if he was feeling ill. He'd claimed he was fine, and for a short time she believed him. But she periodically caught flashes of uneasiness. In her mind she formed a list of possible causes: his brother, his nephew, his health, his job.

Alex fluctuated between irritation and dread. She thought they'd cleared the air after he finally got back from his six-month suspension – that had been a difficult process. She'd hated the feeling of alienation from her partner. It took her a long time to get past her anger, but she was sure they were back in tune with each other. It hurt to see Bobby struggling now, and to feel that he didn't want to tell her what was wrong.

Alex had barely been home from work for an hour tonight when she got the call from Captain Ross. She'd sighed, packed her uneaten dinner into the refrigerator and returned to One PP, where she met her partner. They were now driving through Park Slope, one of the more expensive neighborhoods in Brooklyn.

Ross hadn't given them much information on the situation: a man had been found dead inside a grocery store he owned after the store's security alarm went off. It wasn't even clear whether this was an accident or a homicide, but the captain said Major Case had been called because the man was a personal friend of the Mayor.

They were still several minutes away from the scene when Alex decided to prod Bobby a little. She saw an Indian restaurant, and pointed as they passed.

"You know," she said, "the last time I ate Indian food I was sick to my stomach for two days." She was relieved when Bobby looked at her with concern. Good – at least he wasn't totally off in his own universe.

"Food poisoning?" he asked. "When did that happen?"

"Oh, a long time ago – before my nephew was born. I don't think it was actually food poisoning; more like a bad reaction to the curry. It was so strong, so hot!"

"Curry's not just one spice, you know. It doesn't have to be hot - it varies a lot from country to country." Bobby shifted in the passenger seat, turning partway toward her. "Even within Indian cuisine there are different levels of spice. And it's not all vegetarian."

"I know, but I haven't been interested in trying Indian food since then." Alex shrugged, keeping her eyes on the road. She started to feel calmer – this was more like Bobby.

"Your nephew's what – four years old?" he asked. "It's been that long?"

"Well, maybe part of it is that I had a bad reaction to the date I was on, too." She grimaced. "It was one of my trademark disasters. But yeah - I haven't wanted to touch Indian food since then."

Her implied challenge should have prompted Bobby to action. In normal times he would have suggested a couple of Indian restaurants; he'd have insisted on lunch the next day.

Instead he withdrew and seemed to deflate. Bobby leaned back in his seat and turned to look out his side window. He was silent for a long time until he finally said, "There it is," and pointed ahead. A couple of NYPD cruisers blocked half the street.

Alex sighed. They needed to clear up this problem, but it would have to wait. She went through the routine of showing her badge and speaking to the officer on duty; she parked as close as possible to the grocery store, which was cordoned off by yellow police tape.

Once out of the car, she looked up at the storefront. The name of the store, "Winter Market", filled a large, new-looking sign painted in yellow and green. A colorful banner was strung across the full width of the window; it announced a Grand Opening, with tomorrow's date as the big day.

"I'm betting they don't open on schedule," she said, gesturing to the banner, but her partner was already striding toward the front door. "So glad you agree," she muttered.

Bobby paused and turned back with a guilty expression. Just then a man with a detective's shield clipped onto his leather jacket came out of the dark store.

"Scarpelli, with the 7-8." He reached out a hand toward Bobby. "You the Major Case detectives?"

"Yeah," Bobby replied, shaking Scarpelli's hand. "I'm Goren, and this is my partner, Eames."

Scarpelli also shook hands with Alex. "Come on in," he said, holding the door open for them. "The vic's in the butchers' stock room in back. Looks like he bled out from a head wound. You guys beat the coroner and CSU, but you might've made the trip here for nothing – the old man could've just slipped or had a heart attack."

They walked down an aisle of canned and boxed goods. Even in the dark, the floor shone with a high gloss, and Alex smelled a lemony disinfectant. Everything was new, neat and ready for business.

"What can you tell us?" Alex asked, reaching into her pocket for her notepad.

"The dead guy's name is Robert Winter," Scarpelli said. "He's the owner of this store and another in Queens – and he's a pal of the Mayor. In fact, him and some Councilmen are supposed to be here in the morning for the ribbon-cutting – which is why Major Case was called."

"Lucky us." Alex said. "Who found him?"

"The guard from the security company," Scarpelli replied. "The alarm went off at six-thirty. The guard says they had a bunch of false alarms – some bug in the system they couldn't figure out. When he showed up this time, he expected to just reset the system again."

"Do the security tapes show anything?" Bobby asked. He was ahead of the others, and increasing his lead with every step.

"Apparently that's another bug," Scarpelli said. "The guard says the cameras shut off by themselves around six, but it didn't trigger any kind of alert until a half hour later. So you have a pretty neat window for the time of death."

It seemed to Alex there were too many coincidences for the man's death to be a simple accident, but she held her tongue until she could see for herself.

By this time Bobby had reached the double doors that led to the stock room, where they could see bright lights. He pushed one door and paused, holding it for Alex and Scarpelli. He looked at her uncertainly.

Alex met Bobby's eye as she passed, trying to convey that she wasn't upset. He seemed to get the message: he nodded and took a deep breath. The moment was enough, and then they both turned their attention to the scene, pulling on latex gloves.

The dead man lay face down on the floor, a few feet from the doorway of what looked like a small office. There was a gash on the back of his head. His white hair was darkened with blood, and he lay in a pool of it.

The man hadn't died quickly, though. A messy, smeared trail of blood led back to one of three stainless steel tables in the center of the spacious area.

The table tops were empty. A counter along the far wall was covered with cutting blocks, scales and knives of various sizes – all shining clean and laid out in order. Next to the counter was an industrial-size sink, also stainless steel, also clean. A walk-in refrigerator was nearby.

Two uniformed officers and a security guard in grey and black stood nearby. Alex immediately guessed the guard was a retired cop – he had that experienced, tired look. She approached the men to introduce herself and her partner.

Bobby crouched beside the body and carefully patted the pockets. He must have come up empty, because he asked, "Was there a wallet or any ID?"

"Not on him," Scarpelli said, "but there's a wallet on the desk in there." He jutted his chin toward the office.

Bobby said, "This blood may have been smeared and cleaned up – see here? Also, he's got an empty belt-clip where his cell phone should be. Did you find it?"

Scarpelli shrugged.

"Where do those doors go?" Bobby asked, pointing toward another set of swinging doors.

"The produce stock room," Scarpelli said. "I checked – it doesn't look like anything happened in there."

"Did you know Mr. Winter?" Alex asked the security guard, who had introduced himself as Frank Fitzgerald.

"Not really," he replied. "I usually cover second shift, so I've mainly worked with the store manager, Mr. John Lasalle – he's been notified."

"And you're sure this is Robert Winter?" Alex asked.

"See for yourself." Fitzgerald pointed to the double doors they'd just come through. On the side facing into the stock room was a large poster: it proclaimed, "Winter Market Employees – You Make Us the Best!" above a picture of a smiling man who stood beside a display of fruits and vegetables. "Robert Winter, Owner" was printed at the bottom. He had sparse white hair, was a little overweight, and seemed to be in his late sixties.

Bobby gently grasped the dead man's head and turned it so Alex could see the face: even marred by blood, they could tell it was the man in the poster.

"When did you get here, Mr. Fitzgerald?" Bobby asked.

"Six-forty-five," he replied. "I was at the Safety Shield office, just over in Woodhaven."

As Bobby continued to examine the body, Alex turned back to the security guard and officers. "Was there any sign of a break-in?" she asked.

"They didn't need to break in," Fitzgerald replied. "When I got here the entrances were unlocked. See, these locks are all controlled electronically." He swept his arm in an arc to indicate the whole store. "There were five times during the past couple weeks when everything ended up unlocked. Every time, the alarm didn't go off until later: five minutes, ten minutes, sometimes more."

Alex scribbled in her notepad. "We'll need to get a record of them. Is that a known bug in the system?"

He shook his head. "I've been with the company six years – since I retired from the NYPD – and I never heard of this happening. It's crazy. They've had the computer guys and the hardware guys working on it, but they can't figure it out. The other Winter Market store has the same system: not a single problem."

Bobby was still crouched over Mr. Winter; he called out without looking up. "Does it control the cameras, too?"

"Cameras, thermostat, lights, everything," he said. "This is the top-of-the-line setup."

Alex looked around the stock room. There was a camera mounted high in one corner – it would have a clear view of anyone entering from the store or from the loading dock. "Detective Scarpelli told us the security cameras were off," she said. "Was that part of this shutdown problem?" she asked.

"Yes, it was." Fitzgerald pointed to a panel mounted on the wall near the exit door. "Like the other times, I came in and manually entered the reset code - first thing, before I even turned on the lights. That stopped the alarm and started the cameras again."

"The lights were off?" she asked. At Fitzgerald's nod, Alex pointed past Bobby and the dead man to the unlit office. "And was the office door half open like that when you got here?"

Fitzgerald nodded. "Just like that."

"Eames," Bobby called softly.

She went to his side and stooped.

"Look at his palms," Bobby said, carefully turning one of the hands to show her the blood rubbed into the heel of the hand. "His pants, too. He was trying to reach his office."

"...on his hands and knees, through his own blood, poor guy," Alex added with a frown. "What'd he want in there?"

"The phone," Bobby said.

"Right, since he didn't have his cell."

They rose and carefully stepped around the pooled blood to peek into the office. Sure enough, a telephone sat on the desk, within easy reach of the doorway. Everything looked neat and undisturbed.

Bobby pointed. "There's a safe." He changed to a clean pair of latex gloves before going inside and trying it. "Locked." He called loudly, "Mr. Fitzgerald, is the safe controlled by the security system?"

The guard yelled in return, "Yes, it is! It's got both manual and electronic controls."

Alex quietly said, "On the desk, Bobby. There's his wallet."

He picked up the wallet and checked the contents. "No cash, no credit cards. I've got a driver's license... insurance card... pictures of grandchildren."

"I'd have expected it to be in Winter's pocket. Is the cell phone inside the desk?" Alex asked.

Bobby checked the drawers. "No."

Alex followed her partner as he returned to the stock area, gazing all around. She could tell he was trying to picture what had happened.

He slowly approached the stainless steel table where the blood trail began. He said, "This table's out of line with the others. It was shoved back forcefully – the linoleum is scratched. And look, Eames." His fingers waved around the edge of the table. "Blood. His head hit right here."

As they were studying the scene, the double doors swung open to admit a team of CSU techs, who immediately began photographing the body and the rest of the area.

Bobby directed one of the photographers to get shots of the table and floor, and then continued his musings.

"So," Bobby said, speaking to Alex over the rising noise, "Winter fell backwards against the table, hard." Bobby kept shifting positions, studying the environment. "There's nothing here - all the equipment is on the other side. Why would he be on this side of the table, facing away? And why did he fall?"

"Heart attack?" Scarpelli said. "Stroke?"

"He wouldn't have gotten up again if it was either of those," Alex said.

"He was facing the office door over there," Bobby said, pointing across the area. "Someone else was here."

"Look. There's a black heel scuff," Alex said, pointing.

Bobby crouched and put his finger to the mark on the linoleum. When he looked up Alex saw his excitement. "It could be recent. What are Mr. Winter's shoes like?" he asked.

Scarpelli was close enough to the body to check. "He's got brown heels, all worn down," he said.

Alex said, "That wasn't made by Mr. Winter. It's far enough from the table that it could be from someone who shoved him. We need to find out how recently this floor was polished." She made another note in her book.

"Come here, Eames – stand right there." She stood with her back to the table, and Bobby planted his feet so he was facing her. "Someone was here – he came out of the office, and confronted Mr. Winter. Maybe they know each other. They argue. Mr. Winter pushes the other person first, and he scuffs his heel. He pushes back. Winter goes down, hits his head." Bobby was gesturing and speaking with confidence now.

"But he doesn't lose consciousness," Alex added. "He doesn't have his cell phone, so he tries to get to the phone in his office to call for help." She also felt a surge of energy as the events came into focus. "Would the attacker try to stop him?"

"If he does that," Bobby said, "he'll get blood all over himself, so he watches and waits till Winter collapses. He doesn't panic."

Alex had a sudden thought. "The phone popped off Winter's belt as he fell?"

"Or... the attacker knocked it out of his hand." Bobby stared at the floor for a few moments, calculating which way the phone might go. He strode around the long tables to the large double sink, and knelt to explore beneath it. It only took him a few seconds to come up with the phone, which was in the flipped open position.

"When was the last call made?" Alex asked, meeting Bobby's intense gaze. She went to his side to watch over his arm as he brought up the call history.

"He called Home at five-thirty-five," Bobby said, "probably to say he was staying late."

"No surprise," Alex said, "with a grand opening tomorrow."

"It lasted a little under three minutes."

"What about incoming?"

"Umm," Bobby said as he searched for the call log. "Here: he got a call from a Ron at five-fifty-one, one from Frannie at five-forty-two, and an earlier one from Ron at four-ten." He held out the phone to a CSU tech who waited with an open evidence bag.

By now the medical examiner and his team had also arrived, and were checking the body.

Bobby caught another CSU tech by the arm. "Can you test the floor here..." He indicated the area between Mr. Winter's body and the exit which led to the loading dock. "Look for signs that blood was cleaned up."

Alex scanned the floor as well. "Good idea - maybe the attacker wasn't that careful after all."

"Detectives?" A uniformed officer signaled to them from the entryway back into the store, where Alex saw that the lights had been turned on.

Alex peeled off her latex gloves as she turned to Bobby. "I'll go. It's probably the family." Their eyes met briefly, and she gave him a tiny smile and nod. At least they were still in synch as far as the job was concerned. She hoped they could work out the rest soon.


	2. Chapter 2

**Winter Market**

**Park Slope, Brooklyn, NY**

**Monday, May 19**

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><p>Alex had learned to trust her first impression of people she interviewed, especially at the scene of the crime. Most people were unable to conceal their true feelings about the victim, and many critical bits of information unintentionally spilled out while the events were fresh.<p>

She pushed through the double doors into the shopping area where she saw cops in uniform, CSU techs and just one civilian – a white man in his forties. As she approached him and introduced herself, Alex checked his shoes: black loafers, with black soles.

John Lasalle, the store manager, looked stressed and tired but alert. It wasn't difficult to guess that the lead-up to the store's opening had left him short on sleep, food and time. He'd probably been dealing with one emergency after another for months. Maybe he was the type who thrived under pressure. Could he be the type to strike out violently under pressure?

"I can't believe this," Lasalle said. "I just saw Bob a couple hours ago. What happened?"

"We're not sure yet," Alex said. "Can you tell me about the security system? Is it true you've had problems with it?"

"That's the understatement of the year." Lasalle's eyes grew wide. "Oh no, you mean it happened again? Someone got in? Oh, my God." He pressed both fists to his forehead. "That stupid bug in the stupid system! I should have stayed! But Bob wouldn't let me – he practically threw me out the door and told me to go home." There were tears in the man's eyes. He reached out and touched Alex's arm. "What happened to him?"

Alex wanted to wait for Bobby to join her so they could both see Lasalle's reactions, so she said, "We haven't determined that yet. What time did you leave? And why did he make you leave?"

"It was... oh, about five o'clock. See, I was planning to come back in at four AM with the early crew for the produce deliveries, and Bob wanted me to be rested up. He's like that – thinking of others, taking care of others."

"So you were at home tonight when the security company called?"

"Yes, my wife took the call – I was asleep." He started to flip open his phone, but closed it immediately. "Sorry, it's reflex. I realized I need to make phone calls about deliveries. I'll have to redirect to the other store..."

So far she wasn't making him for a murderer. In fact, Alex thought he hadn't fully grasped the situation yet, and was automatically trying to resolve this latest crisis. As Lasalle spoke, he lightly touched her arm again. It was probably a habit, and it seemed harmless to Alex.

She heard Bobby approach and stop just behind her – very close. Lasalle dropped his hand, looking intimidated. Bobby was undoubtedly doing his rendition of Protective Male. Without turning to look, Alex calmly gestured with her pen. "Mr. Lasalle, this is my partner, Detective Goren. This is Mr. John Lasalle." She asked, "Was anyone else here at the time you left?"

"Frannie Szabo - that's Bob's daughter – and her two kids. She came by with them after school, and we were running though a final inventory check. They were expecting her husband to pick them up."

"So Mr. Winter was planning to work alone?" Bobby asked.

He shrugged. "Everything was pretty much ready for the opening, although he was hoping Ron would come," Lasalle replied.

And Ron is...?" Alex asked. That was the name of the other caller on Winter's cell phone.

"Bob's son. He's manager of the Long Island City store – I was assistant manager there for five years."

"Do you know if Ron came?" Alex asked.

"I don't know."

Bobby said, "The security guard says there were no cars in the lot when he got here. Does Mr. Winter park on the street?"

"No. Bob's house is only half a mile from here," Lasalle said. "He walks whenever the weather's good."

"This is a family business," Bobby said. "A Mom-and-Pop store?" He was still hovering over Alex's shoulder, so she moved a step to the side. She was sure Lasalle had gotten the message.

"It started that way," Lasalle said, "but with this new store it's getting big. For a couple years now, Nancy – that's Mrs. Winter - has been hinting to Bob to turn it all over to Ron. I've heard her mention Florida, where their son Mark lives."

"But instead of retiring he expanded the business," Alex said. "What about Frannie? Why not turn it over to her, too?"

"I agree with you – she could do it," Lasalle said. His hand moved as though he was going to touch Alex's elbow again, but he stopped himself with a quick glance at Bobby.

"Does that cause friction in the family?" Bobby asked.

Lasalle shrugged. "The grocery business is high-stress – you get used to it. They get along okay. Frannie's a lot younger than her brothers – she's the baby of the family, you know? Her kids are still young. She doesn't work in the store, but she takes the books home every weekend and double-checks everything, clears up the discrepancies."

Discrepancies - that sounded interesting. Alex quickly shared a glance with her partner before asking, "So there are problems with the books?"

"Nothing serious, mind you! Just normal mistakes. Bookkeeping's not Ron's strong suit, if you know what I mean, so Frannie puts it in good shape."

Bobby leaned forward a little. "What is Ron's strong suit?"

"He's a good man with the vendors and customers." Lasalle actually touched Bobby's arm before he stuffed his hand into his pocket.

Alex smiled. She was willing to bet Lasalle was a good man with the customers and vendors, too – and probably didn't need anyone to clean up his bookkeeping. He clearly liked Mr. Winter a lot, and seemed fond of Frannie; however, Ron wasn't on his top-ten list. His praise of Ron sounded rehearsed and not at all genuine.

"Is there anyone you know who had something against Mr. Winter?" Alex asked.

Lasalle chewed on his lip for a moment. "We had to let an employee go about a month ago for stealing. We caught him on the security camera, packing cartons of cigarettes into his locker. This was at the Long Island City store. The guy had the nerve to be upset at us for spying on him, as he called it."

Bobby asked, "Who fired him?"

"Bob did it himself."

"Did you press charges?" Alex asked.

Lasalle shook his head. "No. We got back the cigarettes, and let it go at that. I hope to God it wasn't a mistake."

They took the name of the man, and were making arrangements with Lasalle to get access to the security video when they heard a disturbance at the front of the store. A woman's voice carried back to them.

"Let me through! He's my father!"

Lasalle called, "Frannie!"

In a few seconds a young woman with long, light brown hair dashed out of a nearby aisle, paused for a moment as she located Lasalle, and then headed directly for the doors to the stock room. They all moved to block her way, and Lasalle caught her in a bear hug.

"You can't go in there, Frannie," he said. "Please, please."

She struggled against him, but soon relented. Lasalle released her, but when she began to weep he embraced her again more gently.

"What happened, John?" she cried. "We were just here with him, and he was fine!"

"I know, I don't understand it either," he replied, patting her back gently. He gradually drew back as she calmed herself. "Frannie, this is Detective Eames and Detective... sorry, I-"

"Goren," Bobby said, giving his handkerchief to Frannie. "We're very sorry about your father, Mrs. Szabo."

"Thanks," she said to Bobby. She wiped her eyes and nose, and pushed her hair back from her face. Alex guessed she wasn't older than thirty. "What happened to him? Was there an accident?" Frannie's eyes shifted to the doors behind the detectives, as though she might try again to run in there.

"We don't think it was an accident," Bobby said. Both Frannie and Lasalle were absolutely frozen as Bobby continued. "Mrs. Szabo, your father hit his head on one of the tables; it looks like he died from that head wound."

"Who did this to him?" Frannie asked.

"We don't know yet," Bobby said. "Do you think you can answer a few questions for us?"

"Yes, of course," Frannie replied. Lasalle started to object, but she quickly turned on him. "No, John, I have to! This is my father..." She choked up, but within a few moments she pulled herself together enough to look Bobby in the eye. "What do you want to know?"

Alex found a clean page in her notebook as Bobby said, "We noticed a call on his cell from you tonight."

"Yes, my children and I were here this afternoon, and I called Dad to let him know when we got home. John left first," she said, nodding at Lasalle, "and we stayed until about five-thirty, I think – I'm not sure of the exact time Jim got here. My husband picked us up." She took a deep breath, slowly in and out.

"You didn't drive?" Bobby asked.

"No, we walked - the school's only a few blocks away. Anyway, I called when we got home, because Dad likes to know we're okay..." Tears welled again, and she didn't refuse Lasalle's arm around her shoulder.

"And was anyone here with him then?" Alex asked.

Frannie shook her head. "No, he said he was about ready to lock up." She blotted her eyes with the handkerchief. "Of course, in Dad-speak that could mean he'd still be working an hour later. You know?"

"I know just what you mean," Alex said. She liked this young woman and felt sorry for her. "Does he usually keep much cash in his wallet?"

"Yes, he does – well, I'm not sure how much, but always something. Tonight he gave the kids nice new five-dollar bills for their help, and he tried to slip me a twenty to buy them pizza."

"And he carries his wallet with him?" Bobby patted the breast pocket of his suit coat.

Frannie paused for just a second before correcting him. "Yes, but in his back pocket." She touched the hip pocket of her own jeans.

"Oh, right," Bobby said, with a quick glance at Alex.

Alex gestured toward the back room as she asked, "Do you know if the safe in the office was open? And do you know what was inside?"

Lasalle looked grim as he replied, "It should have been locked – but we discovered that those shutdowns leave it unlatched. This afternoon Bob and I took seventy-five hundred dollars out of the bank. It's mostly smaller bills and coins, to seed the cash registers in the morning."

Bobby asked, "Who has the combination to the safe?"

"I do," Lasalle replied, "and Bob, and Ron."

"We'll need you to check the contents." Alex then looked at Frannie. "You don't know the combination?"

"Not yet," she said. "Dad was going to tell me – you know, as a back-up."

Lasalle's cell chirped. He excused himself and walked a few steps down an aisle as he began to talk rapidly and quietly.

Bobby also slipped away, and Alex knew he was checking to see if the coroner was ready to remove Mr. Winter. She hoped he'd persuade them to go out through the loading dock. She didn't want Frannie to witness the sight of her father zipped into a body bag, rolling by on a gurney.

Frannie's eyes followed Bobby, so Alex asked, "Do you need to make any calls, Mrs. Szabo?" She took a step in the other direction, causing Frannie to turn away from the stock room doors.

"I should call Mom again... and my husband..."

Alex held out a hand to guide her in the same direction Lasalle had gone, then moved to be in the way in case Frannie decided to try for the stock room. She looked like she could be a very determined person.

Bobby returned within a minute. "They're taking him out the back," he whispered.

"Good. Did they find blood on the floor?"

Bobby nodded. "The killer used alcohol wipes – from a holder on the wall, like that one." Bobby pointed to a plastic dispenser mounted by a nearby refrigerated meat display case.

Alex asked, "Was he helpful enough to leave his fingerprints?"

"Maybe. They found alcohol and blood traces leading toward the exit by the loading dock – so he must have used the back entrance."

Just then they heard Frannie, her voice rising in surprise. "Ron's there? He drove to your house instead of here?" There was a pause, and when she spoke again she definitely sounded irritated. "I'm just saying, he practically had to drive past the store, and he knew I was here!" Another pause; she sighed deeply. "I know, Mom, I just – look, I have to call Jim, and then I'm coming right over."

Alex looked up at Bobby – a lift of his eyebrows told her he was also interested at signs of friction between Frannie and her brother.

Frannie returned, holding out Bobby's handkerchief. "Thanks for letting me use this. Um, I need to get over to my Mom..."

"Of course," Alex said. "We just have a couple more questions, if you don't mind." At Frannie's nod she asked, "Do you know of anyone who had a grudge against your father, someone who might have come here to confront him?"

Frannie's forehead creased in a frown. "You think it wasn't a robbery?"

"At this point we have to consider all possibilities," Alex said.

Frannie looked up at the ceiling. "Oh boy, I don't know... Everybody likes him." After a few moments her eyes snapped down to meet Alex's. "The only person I can think of - and really, I never thought he was an enemy or anything like that... There's another grocery store that's our main competitor in Queens - Best Fresh Foods. Mr. Beldsen – he's the owner – he also wanted to buy this place." She jabbed her finger downward. "But Daddy got here first."

"That must have been a while ago," Bobby said.

"Yes, about a year ago," Frannie said. "He actually tried to sue us. Ron could tell you about that – he dealt with Mr. Beldsen and the lawyers."

"Do you think Mr. Beldsen would have hard feelings?" Bobby asked.

Frannie shrugged. "I only met him once, about three or four years ago."

"Okay, thank you" Alex said, closing her notebook and holding out a business card. "Feel free to contact us if you think of anything else. We're very sorry about your father."

* * *

><p>Alex let her head roll left to right in an attempt to relieve her tired neck muscles. It was past ten o'clock, but the temperature had remained mild after a warm spring day. She and Bobby had been about to leave the crime scene when her phone rang: it was Captain Ross, asking for an update. She leaned against the car limply as she told him what they'd seen and deduced about Winter's death.<p>

"...seventy-five hundred from the safe was emptied out," Alex said, "and Winter's cash and credit cards are gone. We put an alert out for the cards."

"Any suspects?" Ross asked.

"We have the names of two men," she said. "A former employee who was fired for stealing, and a business competitor who fought Winter over the retail property."

"What about the family?" Ross asked.

"We got a statement from the daughter," she replied, "and the store manager. We should be able to confirm their alibis. We made arrangements to see Winter's wife and son tomorrow. CSU will let us know if any fingerprints pop with a criminal record."

Alex stared blankly at the Winter Market storefront – now without the Grand Opening banner - as the captain reminded her that he needed to be kept informed of all developments, and that the Mayor was personally interested in this case. When she finally hung up she pressed her palms over her eyes.

"Want me to drive?" Bobby asked. She felt the car sway a little as he leaned against it beside her.

With her eyes still covered, she shook her head. "Thanks, I'm okay – just starving. I didn't have a chance to eat before the call-out. How about if we find a place nearby?"

"Sure."

Alex was suddenly sure what Bobby was about to say, and with an energy she hadn't felt a minute ago she swung a hand down to clamp onto his arm. "So help me, Goren, if you suggest that Indian restaurant, I'll smack you upside the head!"

He cleared his throat. "Okay, no Indian food," he said.

She grinned widely. "Just so we're clear on that."

Alex expected him to tease her about this newly revealed phobia, but there was no response. She turned to look at him inquiringly. Bobby slid his arm out from her grip, moved away from the car and shoved his hands into his pockets.

What had happened? They'd been relaxed and comfortable, and then in two seconds everything froze over!

"Bobby?"

"No, it's fine. We'll, uh..." He wouldn't look at her. "...find a diner, or..."

Alex started mentally to rerun their dialogue, but just then a large silver sedan pulled into the Winter Market parking lot.

She met her partner's eye – their awkwardness had vanished again, and they were both on the alert. They waited to see if the car came back out. It didn't.

"Now who could that be?" she said. As they crept toward the parking lot, Alex adjusted her jacket to have quick access to her gun holster.


	3. Chapter 3

**Winter Market**

**Park Slope, Brooklyn, NY**

**Monday, May 19**

* * *

><p>Alex and Bobby peered around the corner of the building, glanced at each other, and then separated. A man had left the car and was climbing the cement steps to the loading dock entrance. Alex drew her gun as her partner quietly made a wide circle to approach from the other side.<p>

When Bobby was in place she yelled, "Police! You can't go in there, sir!" She strode toward the building.

The man spun clumsily and nearly toppled into the truck bay. He grabbed onto an iron railing and dropped to his knees. He didn't look dangerous, but Alex kept her gun trained on him as Bobby approached with his arm outstretched to show his shield.

"Come down," Bobby said. "This is a crime scene – no one's allowed in there."

The man obeyed with his hands raised. "Sorry, sorry! I'm the – this is my store, and I was just – just - I wanted to – my father was – I need to-"

Alex holstered her gun as the man babbled, completely unnerved. He was overweight, in his late forties and starting to go gray. He was well dressed, though a bit disheveled - he looked like the kind of man who couldn't keep his shirttails tucked in.

Bobby held up a hand to silence him. "We need to see some ID."

"I'm Ron Winter," he said, reaching for his wallet. He took quick breaths, probably trying to steady himself. "My father was the one who – uh - I wanted to make sure the store's locked down."

Bobby scratched the back of his head and Alex frowned – Winter's concern was a little late. As Alex checked his ID, she replied, "The police have taken care of that, Mr. Winter. You can't go in there now."

"Yeah, sorry, I should have known," Winter said. "I thought I should take down the banner about the opening – not that it's important..."

Bobby leaned close to him. "Was that what you were worried about? The banner?"

Winter backed away. "No! Look, I was just with my mother – she's distraught, as you can imagine, and I guess I'm not thinking too clearly, either. I lost my father tonight, Officers, and I don't want anything else happening on top of that tragedy."

Alex studied Ron Winter. She knew from experience not to judge solely based on a person's behavior, but she found it odd he didn't ask what happened to his father. That had been the first question asked by his sister and by John Lasalle. She checked his shoes: black.

"We're very sorry for your loss, Mr. Winter," she said. "I'm Detective Eames – I called you earlier..."

"Yes, yes, of course." Winter was regaining his balance.

"This is my partner," she continued, "Detective Goren."

Bobby said, "Since you're here, maybe we can get your statement."

"Sure – um, I don't know what help I can be," Winter said, rubbing his hands together as though he felt cold. His eyes darted all around.

"Let's start with where you were this evening," Alex said, reaching into her pocket for her notepad.

"Me? I worked at our Queens store all day – it's in Long Island City - and then I went home and turned on the news on TV – that's where I was when I got the call about my father."

"Where's home?" Bobby asked.

"Middle Village." That was also in Queens. They'd learned from Lasalle that the senior Winters and Frannie both lived here in Park Slope.

Alex asked, "What time did you get home?"

"Let's see..." Winter pulled an iPhone off his belt and poked at its screen. "It would have been... almost six o'clock."

Bobby edged around to Winter's side and peeked at the device. "How did-" He grinned widely at Winter. "How did you find out where you were from that? Does it – you know – track you? Like GPS?"

Alex kept her face stern, although she was tempted to laugh as her partner pretended to be a techie novice. It almost always worked – Bobby's act allowed people to feel superior, and they let down their defenses.

"No, nothing like that," Winter said with a chuckle. "I was just checking the time stamp on a call from the assistant manager at our Queens store – I was home when he called. But it does have a GPS app if I need driving directions, see?" He touched the screen a few times and tilted the phone for Bobby to see.

"Wow," Bobby said. "That's one of those, uh... smart phones? Do you have a lot of, of..."

"Apps. Applications." Winter smiled at him. "It's really addicting. They keep improving these things. I stood on line for hours last year to buy this, and I already need to upgrade."

"It's a racket," Alex said. "So - were you home alone?"

"For a while, yes - my wife and son got home after I did," Winter said. He looked nervous again. "She picked him up from baseball practice at the high school. Then the call came in about my father, and I went right out."

"And you went to...?" Bobby asked.

"My parents' house. My sister was coming here, and I didn't want my mother left alone. We didn't know what had happened, what was going on."

Bobby leaned close again. "You thought your mother was in danger, too?"

"I didn't know! I couldn't take a chance."

"I see," Bobby said. "Does your father have enemies? Your sister mentioned a competitor: Mr. Bel- umm, Bellair?"

"Beldsen," Winter said, nodding energetically. "Ben Beldsen. I don't think he would hurt anyone, but the man does have a hot temper. He threatened my father with all sorts of law suits over this store."

"Did he ever threaten him physically?" Alex asked.

Winter shrugged, but before he could reply, his phone sang out loudly; Alex didn't recognize the ring-tone - something country and western. Winter glanced at it. "I need to take this call." He stepped away from them as he hunched over his phone.

Bobby tilted his head to meet Alex's eye. He spoke quietly. "It's odd: he's not curious about what happened to his father."

"Very odd," Alex said. "He's more interested in his phone."

"Well..." Bobby scratched his chin. "He may have talked to Frannie after she left here – she would've told him what she knew."

"Maybe." Alex looked at her partner steadily. She wanted to be fair to Ron, but he'd rubbed her the wrong way. "I'm betting Ron's already looked up what he gets in the will."

Winter's conversation was short – he returned in less than two minutes. "I need to get to JFK to meet my brother's flight from Florida," he said, clipping the phone onto his belt. "You have my number – let me know if you need the security tapes, or whatever it takes to get the person who did this." He started toward his car.

"Mr. Winter," Alex called, and waited until he looked back. "About the security system: there was a problem tonight. The cameras were off at the time of your father's death."

"Oh. Off? So..."

"You didn't know that?" Bobby asked.

"I – I - I know they had problems with the cameras and locks recently," Winter said.

All of a sudden Winter looked very nervous again. Alex gave a quick glance at her partner – he'd caught the change, too.

"Have you spent much time at the new store?" Bobby asked.

"Some - helping to get it set up. Not as much time as John Lasalle or my father, of course, but..."

"Did you see your father today?" Alex asked.

"No. I called him a couple of times – uh, about the ribbon-cutting ceremony. He was all keyed up about that, as you can imagine." He backed away a couple steps. "Look, I really have to get to the airport."

They watched as he climbed into his sedan and left.

"He's not upset that his father was murdered," Bobby said. "But he is jumpy about the security problem."

"Everyone reacts differently. Hey, at least he didn't squeeze out crocodile tears." Alex gave a quick yank to Bobby's sleeve. "We're done here. Food. Now."

* * *

><p><strong>MCS, 1PP, NY<strong>

**Tuesday, May 20**

* * *

><p>Bobby brought coffee the next morning they when met early to view the security tapes. He'd seemingly shaken off whatever was bothering him, so Alex relaxed and concentrated on their work.<p>

They were in the video room when they saw the captain enter the squad room. Within a few minutes he joined them.

Ross gestured at the screen, which showed the Winter Market stock area, where men pushed hand carts stacked high with boxes. "Didn't you say the cameras were off at the time of death?" Ross asked.

"They were," Alex replied. "We're looking at the video leading up to it, and all the other camera shutdowns."

Bobby said, "The security system was installed two months ago by Safety Shield. Then, starting eleven days ago, it shut down a total of six times, including last night. Safety Shield hasn't been able to track the source of the failures. There's been construction work inside and outside, which might be related."

Alex added, "And there's another twist: the alarm goes off, but not when the shutdown happens. There's always a delay. During that gap the store is wide open, but no one knows it."

Bobby referred to a sheet of paper in his hand. "Most of the gaps were short: less than ten minutes. The longest by far was last night: just shy of thirty minutes."

"So what's on the tapes?" Ross asked. "Is there a pattern?"

"No one person was present at all the failures – not even Robert Winter," Alex replied. "But we saw a pattern as far as timing. It never happened during the middle of the night: nothing after nine PM and nothing earlier than about seven AM."

"If this was randomly caused by a hardware or software malfunction," Bobby said, "it ought to have occurred in the off-hours at least once."

"This perp had to be home and in bed early, I guess," Ross said with a smirk.

"Also," Bobby added, "they were grouped: three close together; a gap of four days; then another three."

Ross asked, "Did any other Safety Shield customers have this problem?"

Both detectives shook their heads. "Not even the other Winter Market store," Alex said.

"Then let's go on the assumption that the shutdowns were intentionally caused," Ross said. "Find out who has access to the system."

"We've scheduled interviews with the employees at the new store," Bobby said. "That's eighteen people."

"Safety Shield sent over the list of employees with access to Winter Market's system," Alex said. "No criminal record on any of them."

"Did you get the coroner's report?" Ross asked.

Alex offered him the papers. "Cause of death was loss of blood from the head wound. There are no bruises or marks to indicate a struggle," she said. "No heart attack, no stroke, no allergic reaction, no meds other than his prescriptions." She sighed. "He shouldn't be dead."

"Did anything pop on the fingerprints?" Ross asked.

"There were some matches to Safety Shield personnel," Alex replied, "but they're on the list of people assigned to Winter Market. We'll be interviewing them, too."

"The tapes stopped yesterday just after six," Bobby said, "and came on again at six-forty-five when the Safety Shield guard arrived. Doctor Rodgers puts the time of death closer to six."

Alex said, "There were signs of blood cleaned up, as though someone got it on their shoe. The only blood type there was Robert Winter's – we'll get the full report on that later today."

Ross scanned the sheet and handed it back to Alex as he asked, "I take it there've been no hits on Winter's credit cards?"

Bobby shook his head. "Between the safe and the wallet, this person has close to eight thousand dollars cash – he doesn't need to risk getting caught with stolen credit cards."

"Let's hope he gets greedy," Ross said as he turned toward his office.

After the captain was gone Alex said, "The first five events - someone was doing this as practice, waiting till there was cash in the safe."

"...and waiting for people to ignore it – you know, the boy who cried wolf," Bobby said.

Alex nodded. "Probably no one was supposed to notice until the morning."

"Except that Robert Winter got in the way."

* * *

><p><strong>Quick Mart<strong>

**Long Island City, Queens, NY**

**Tuesday, May 20**

* * *

><p>Alex stood back as her partner opened the door of the tiny convenience store for her. She peered inside and honestly wondered if there was room for the two of them. The aisles were claustrophobically narrow; the ceiling was low; the shelves were overloaded with chips, candy, sport drinks and every sort of enticing junk food.<p>

At the checkout counter they showed the woman their shields and asked for Jared McKay, the man who'd been fired from Winter Market. She pointed to the back of the store. "He's on break – the green door."

Alex led the way. She muttered, "Why do I feel like it's all going to fall down on top of us?"

"At least you don't have to turn sideways," Bobby replied.

Alex glanced over her shoulder: sure enough, his shoulders were hunched and he was side-stepping and ducking past an overhanging beef jerky display. She gave a quick huff of laughter and knocked at the dented metal door marked "Authorized Personnel Only".

A gruff voice behind the door yelled, "I got five more minutes, dammit!"

Alex grinned at Bobby and knocked again, harder. This time they heard a string of curses.

When the door was yanked open Bobby reached in, grabbed the man's shirt and pulled him forward. He held his shield close to the man's face. "Watch your language in front of Detective Eames."

They both stared angrily at the man as he squirmed through an insincere apology. He smelled of stale cigarettes and looked as though he hadn't changed clothes recently. He was thin, but in an unhealthy, strung-out way. His beard grew in unattractive, scruffy patches on his cheeks. If customers got a look at a worker like this they'd never make a purchase.

"Are you Jared McKay?" Alex asked.

He nodded. "So I guess they called the cops on me after all."

Alex caught Bobby's eye for a second. Rather than correct McKay's assumption, they'd let him talk. He might reveal something relevant.

"You're surprised by that?" Bobby said.

"Look, they got their damn cigarettes back," McKay said. "The cartons weren't even opened or nothing. And it was just a mistake, okay?"

"Right, a mistake," Alex said. She wanted to see what he knew about the security lapses. "Didn't you know about the security cameras?"

McKay raised his palms. "Yeah, but there's gaps – you know? It goes around from one camera to the other, so there's gaps."

Bobby frowned and asked, "How'd you find out about these gaps? Civilians aren't supposed to know."

"I saw it on TV – they did one of those investigative reports, you know?"

"All that research, and still you got caught red-handed," Alex said.

"Hey, I told you it was a mistake! Ronnie was cool about it – he was going to take 'em back and forget about it. If old man Winter didn't stick his damn nose into it, everybody'd still be happy."

"That's funny," Bobby said with a dry chuckle. "Old Man Winter."

McKay didn't respond – he didn't even understand his own joke. Alex met Bobby's glance and rolled her eyes.

Bobby grew serious as he continued. "You mean Mr. Robert Winter?" He opened his binder and drew out a large color photo of the dead man. "This man?"

"Damn!" McKay said, recoiling from the gory picture. "Who did that to him?"

"That's what we wanted to ask you," Alex said, "considering how angry you are about being fired by him."

"Uh-uh - not angry like that!" he said, pointing at the picture. "Look, I never touched him. And I never stole nothing before."

"You mean you never got caught before," Alex said.

As McKay tried to sputter out a denial Bobby interrupted. "You weren't getting paid enough? You needed more money for what? Your habit, maybe?" He grabbed McKay's wrist and quickly pushed back the sleeve. However, there were no needle track marks.

McKay pulled his arm away. "No way, man! I don't do dope!"

Bobby leaned close and sniffed at McKay's shirt. Alex grimaced – she was sure her stomach would heave if she got a good whiff of him.

Bobby said, "But you smoke weed." He winked and grinned. "Hey, right?"

"Not at work!" McKay brushed at his shirt. "Isn't it, like, legal in California?"

Alex sighed. This man was too shiftless to have made the effort to go all the way to Brooklyn and attack Robert Winter. Beyond that, she'd be surprised if he had enough tech savvy to send a text message, let alone break into Winter Market's security system.

She asked, "So, Jared, where were you yesterday?"

"Yesterday? I worked here nine to five."

"And after work?" Bobby asked.

"I went home and stayed home."

"No, see," Alex said, "we just came from your apartment, and your girlfriend said she kicked you out last week."

Bobby said, "Want to try that answer again?"

"Um, yeah, that's right," McKay said. "I moved outta there last week, like she said. I, uh, been staying with my ex until I find a place."

"Your ex-wife?" Alex said, rolling her eyes. "You expect us to believe she'd put up with you?"

Bobby took his arm. "Guess what, Jared? You get to go downtown until we check out your alibi." He turned and signaled to the two uniformed officers who were waiting at the front of the store.

Alex shook her head. They had to make sure, but it was likely McKay barely had bus fare to get to Park Slope. If he'd taken seventy-five hundred dollars cash from Winter's safe he'd be out on a bender right now. He wasn't their murderer.


	4. Chapter 4

**Home of Nancy Winter**

**Park Slope, Brooklyn, NY**

**Tuesday, May 20**

* * *

><p>Cars were parked solidly along the block of Robert Winter's home, on both sides of the street. Alex had to go around the corner to find a space. As they walked back, they studied the neighborhood. Although houses and yards generally looked well-kept, this wasn't a super-expensive, luxury area. The Winters' house could use a fresh coat of paint.<p>

Bobby touched her arm and pointed to the three cars in the driveway. "There's Ron's Lexus," he said. "The minivan ahead of it is probably Frannie's."

"The Taurus must be Mom's and Dad's," Alex added. "Looks old. That shade of maroon was popular in the nineties, wasn't it?"

Bobby nodded. "They live modestly here. What's the profit margin in grocery retail?"

"Small businesses net around twenty-five percent if they're lucky," Alex said. "But Winter had to be pouring money into the new store, with no return yet."

"Ron's living large," Bobby said. They'd reached the driveway, and he stooped to peer into Ron's sedan. "The car's been detailed recently. He's got a GPS system, leather seats, leather-covered steering wheel, wood paneling, satellite radio."

Alex looked, too, bracing herself on Bobby's arm as she leaned in. "What about a pine tree air freshener?"

"Doesn't need one." He turned to smile at her. "It probably still has the new-car smell."

She smiled back, and was disappointed when Bobby blinked and stepped away.

He straightened his tie, then moved up the driveway and peeked into the minivan. "Two booster seats... sippy cups, travel mug... sweatshirt, children's shoes... a box of Nilla Wafers..."

"Let me guess - crumbs and raisins on the floor. Yep, it's Frannie's car." Alex didn't approach Bobby again. Whatever was going on in his head, she'd wait till he was ready to share.

She noticed movement at the house, and she forced her attention away from her partner. A man stood inside, watching them. His arms were crossed on his chest.

Alex showed her shield as she approached the door. The man's expression lightened when he realized they were cops. He came outside and let the glass storm door close behind him. The heard the low sound of many voices inside. Alex guessed that most of the cars parked on the street belonged to visitors for the Winters.

"Is there a problem with the cars?" the man asked. He looked something like Ron, but trimmer and not as gray - a younger, better-looking version.

"No problem, sir," Alex said. She introduced herself and her partner. "We're investigating the death of Robert Winter."

"Oh. I'm Mark Winter, his son." He reached out to shake her hand, and held on a little longer than necessary. Alex noticed that he didn't offer his hand to Bobby, or even look at him after a brief glance. His eyes took her in head-to-foot a couple times.

Alex said, "We called Mrs. Winter last night – she should be expecting us."

"Ah... that may not be a good idea," Mark said. He took a step away from the door, closer to Alex. "People have been coming by all morning, you know, with condolences, with food..."

As if to prove his point, a woman walked up the driveway behind them. She was carrying an oval-shaped casserole dish in a fitted wicker basket. The glass cover was steamed over. The detectives stood aside to let her by, and Alex caught an enticing hint of pot roast. The woman spoke a few words to Mark, who held the door for her to enter.

"Mr. Winter," Alex said, "your mother agreed to see us today. We only need a few minutes of her time."

He smiled at her, but didn't make a move to let them inside. "Maybe you could talk to me?"

Alex was annoyed, and she could tell Bobby was, too. Was this guy really trying to come on to her? Here was another son who didn't seem to care that his father had been killed.

Fortunately they were interrupted by the appearance of Frannie. She immediately opened the door to welcome the detectives inside. "Thanks for coming - is there any news?" she asked.

Alex liked her eagerness. "Unfortunately, not yet."

"Is this a good time to talk to your mom?" Bobby asked. He held Alex's elbow, urging her forward. They both stepped right past Mark and into the house.

"It's fine. In fact," Frannie said, speaking quietly, "she could use a break. People mean well, I know, but honestly, if another fruit basket is delivered... That reminds me." She turned back to her brother, who'd followed them. "Mark, can you move some of the casseroles to the freezer in the basement?"

Alex slipped her shield into her pocket, and she saw Bobby pulling his off his lapel – no need to announce to all the guests that the police had arrived.

The house was full of people, talking in clusters. Across the room they saw Ron with some men; he acknowledged them but made no other move. Frannie led them into the living room, right up to the couch, where three older ladies were seated. She knelt by the one in the middle and whispered to her. The woman immediately looked up at the detectives and nodded. As she rose, Frannie held one arm and Bobby took the other to assist her up.

Frannie quietly introduced them to her mother and then said, "Why don't you sit outside on the deck? The kids are out there, but I'll keep them out of your way."

"That'll be fine, sweetheart," Mrs. Winter said, and began to weave her way through the crowd. Alex noticed that Mark was still gawking at her, and felt another surge of annoyance – this was the wrong time and place for that kind of attention. She ignored him.

They went out through a sliding glass door onto a wooden deck. The lawn furniture looked several seasons old. A teenage boy was stretched out on a fully reclined chaise longue, holding what looked like an iPod on his chest, with thin cords running to each ear.

In the small, neat yard a younger girl and boy were running back and forth, but when they saw the adults they climbed up on the outside of the deck railing to stare at them.

Frannie pointed to the children. "This is Emily, and this is Bobby. Rick is Ron's son. Come inside, you guys. Grandma needs to talk to these people, and you can help me choose pictures of Grandpa for the DVD."

The kids jumped back down to the grass and came around to the steps. Bobby squatted down and smiled at the little boy, who looked four or five. "Hi. My name's Bobby, too."

Little Bobby gazed at him somberly. "My Grandpa's name was Bob, too. He died – he's in heaven now."

"I know," Bobby said. "I'm sorry you lost your grandpa."

"We didn't go to school today," the boy added.

"Let's go, kids," Frannie said. "We have a lot of pictures to look at."

"Mommy?" Emily said. She looked a couple years older than her brother. "Can we see pictures of you when you were a little girl?"

"Of course," Frannie said, reaching for her hand. "And wait till you see the funny clothes I wore!" She beckoned to the older boy as he pulled out his ear buds. "Rick, you come with us, okay?"

The teenager stretched and slowly sat up, revealing a large, fresh, purplish bruise on his cheek.

"Wow!" Bobby said with a smile. "That's a real shiner, Rick! How'd it happen?"

"Baseball scrimmage yesterday," he replied, looking proud. "I was sliding into third, and the ball hit my face instead of the glove."

"Oooh!" Bobby said. "But you were safe."

"Yeah," Rick said, "and I got an RBI. But Coach was afraid I had a concussion or something, and he made me go home early."

Mrs. Winter winced. "Ricky, hon, he had to - you could have been badly hurt!"

"I know, Grandma, but I'm okay. Really."

"Does it hurt?" the little boy asked.

"I'm wondering the same thing," Alex said.

Rick touched the bruise gingerly. "It's not bad."

Frannie ushered the kids inside. Mrs. Winter and Alex sat in chairs and Bobby dragged Rick's chaise longue over and perched on the end of it.

"We're so sorry for your loss, Mrs. Winter," Alex said. "Thank you for agreeing to see us."

"Well, I can't promise I won't break down on you," she said, reaching out to grip Alex's hand. "One minute I can't stop crying, and the next I'm swapping recipes." She took a deep breath. "Frannie told me a little last night – what happened? Can you tell me?"

It was clear where Frannie got her frankness.

Bobby replied, "It looks like someone came in while the alarm system and cameras were off – this person was probably expecting the store to be empty, and your husband surprised him."

Mrs. Winter covered her mouth with her hand. "Oh, Bob."

"We saw on his cell phone that he called home yesterday evening," Alex said. "He spoke to you?"

"That's right; he said Frannie and the children had just left, and he thought he'd stay another half hour or so."

"Was he alone?"

"Yes."

"And it's normal for him to walk home?" Alex asked.

"Yes," she replied. "It stays light till later now, and the weather's been good. I told him this was probably the only exercise he'd get..."

Bobby leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "Has he had any problems or arguments with anyone?"

Mrs. Winter huffed. "Problems? From the moment we started planning for a second store, we had nothing but problems! Delays, real estate agents, cost increases, lawyers, contractors... you name it." She held up her hand as Bobby opened his mouth to speak. "But I know what you meant, Detective. No, I don't know of anything like that."

Bobby smiled. "Your daughter told us that everyone liked him."

Mrs. Winter's eyes teared up. Alex saw Bobby reaching into his pocket, but Mrs. Winter had her own handkerchief ready. They gave her time to get her voice under control. She finally said, "People liked Bob because he liked them. He loved the grocery business - that's why he was so good at it."

Alex said, "Frannie mentioned a competitor: Ben Beldsen. Do you know of any hostility between him and your husband?"

"Oh, him," Mrs. Winter said with a frown. "Why he made all that trouble over the property, I have no idea. I was so glad when it was over. You know, he actually worked for us when he was younger."

Alex and Bobby shared a glance. "Really. How long ago was that?" Alex asked.

"It's probably at least fifteen years, maybe more – he was in college, I think. He's about Mark's age. But anyway, Bob hasn't had contact with him for months, since the law suit was dropped."

Alex said, "Ron came here last night when he got the news. Were you home alone?"

"I was out doing errands most of the day, but yes, I was getting supper ready when..." She choked again, and once again dabbed at her eyes with the handkerchief. "Ron got here first; Frannie came later, and then John Lasalle, too – he's been a great help at both stores."

Bobby waved his hand. "Is this the home where you raised your family?"

"No, we moved here from Woodside... umm, it'll be five years in September. I wanted to be closer to Frannie, to help her with the children. That was when Bob got the idea for this store. We hadn't told her yet, but we intended it to be for Frannie once her children were older. And then we were going to retire – or at least only work part-time."

"Your son, Ron," Bobby said. "He would get the store in Queens?"

Mrs. Winter nodded. "Yes, Bob's been giving him more and more of the responsibility there."

"One store for Ron," Alex said, "and one for Frannie. What about Mark?"

"Mark didn't like the grocery business. And," Mrs. Winter said on a sigh, "he married a girl from Florida." Her expression indicated that there'd been some family tension about that. "Bob helped set him up in the carpet cleaning business in Tampa."

"Is Mark's wife here?" Bobby asked. Alex bet the answer would be no, considering Mark had come on to her pretty strongly.

"They're divorced," Mrs. Winter said, shaking her head. "My granddaughter, Kelly, lives with her mother. They're flying up from Florida tomorrow. Kelly's one year younger than Ricky."

They all turned at a knock on the glass door. Mark slid it open and said, "The Mayor's office called – he'll be here by one o'clock."

"Okay, dear," Mrs. Winter said. She turned to the detectives. "The Mayor and Bob's older brother, Howard, were friends in school. I've known him since our wedding."

Alex said, "Thank you for your time, Mrs. Winter. We'll be in touch." As she rose, she saw that Mark hadn't moved from the doorway. He was staring at her. This was becoming ridiculous.

Alex was relieved at the interruption of little Emily, who bumped past Mark, bearing a photograph of herself as a toddler in her grandfather's arms. "Look, Grandma!"

* * *

><p><strong>Safety Shield Headquarters<strong>

**Woodhaven, Queens, NY**

**Tuesday, May 20**

* * *

><p>Most of the people in the bustling office wore the grey and black uniform of Safety Shield. The tall black man who approached them wore a business suit. He didn't have the look of an ex-cop; Alex had already picked out several in the office who did.<p>

"How do you do? Alonzo Matthews," he said. He held out his hand to Alex first, then to Bobby. "I'm the site director, and I've been working with the Winter Market team since they started having these problems." He gestured toward the back of the area. "Come right this way – I've arranged for you to meet with the key leaders on the Winter Market team."

"Mr. Matthews, we need to interview everyone who has access to Winter Market's system," Alex said. "Not just key leaders."

"Yes, that's been arranged as well," Matthews said. "If you'll follow me..."

They'd only gone a few steps when Bobby slowed, veered off the aisle and headed toward a bank of video screens. He usually turned up valuable information when he stopped to chat like that, so Alex smiled to herself and kept following Matthews.

They reached the room, and Matthews faltered when he realized he'd lost a detective.

"He really shouldn't be over there," Matthews said. "We have to protect our customers' privacy." He made a half-hearted move toward Bobby, who was already in an animated conversation with a young woman seated at the monitors.

Alex stepped into Matthews' way and said, "Oh, don't mind my partner. He likes to think he knows about technology." She peeked into the meeting room – only a man and a woman were seated at the table. She said, "Where's the rest of the team? It's not just two people?"

"Um, yes..." Matthews was still staring unhappily at Bobby. "I mean, no. Our technician is running late, and the lead engineer had a conflicting meeting."

"Yeah, well, we need to meet everyone," she said. "Are they here in the building?"

"I – I think he is – they are, I mean." Matthews was clearly off-balance.

Alex glanced over at Bobby just as he looked up at her, eyes bright. She saw his lips move – he was saying, "Eames". She had to smile at his eagerness, and at his desire to include her in his discovery. She wanted to be included.

She turned back to Matthews. "How about you get the rest of your team, and I'll get Detective Goren?" She didn't wait for a reply.

As Alex approached, Bobby stretched his hand toward her, urging her along. The young woman was looking up at him with an indulgent smile – obviously he'd been pouring on the charm.

"Eames, you need to see this," Bobby said, and lightly tapped one of the extra-wide screens. "Jeanne, can you show my partner the one with the lock controls?" As Jeanne clicked through the program interface he watched closely. "Jeanne works on Winter Market's, uh - here, this one - support team. See, every door in the store has a lock control – right?"

Jeanne nodded. "Yes, we installed individual electronic controls on all exterior doors."

"And the safe, too," Bobby added.

"Right," Jeanne said. "This interface controls locks, cameras, temperature, lights, etcetera."

"Can you tell if commands are coming from here or from the store?" Alex asked. A glance at Bobby told her he'd also asked this question.

"Oh, sure," Jeanne said. She brought up a screen full of text and numbers, and smiled over her shoulder at Bobby. "This is what I was telling you. The activity log shows the date and time, plus a unique code – we call it a tag - for commands issued from right here in the Safety Shield office, or from the control panel inside the store, or from the remote installation."

"What's the remote installation?" Alex asked.

"It's the customer's own personal computer," Jeanne replied. "The software they get is a modified version of what you see here – it's mainly intended for monitoring. We installed Safety Shield customer software on a laptop computer for Mr. Winter's home. It operates over the internet."

"That doesn't sound too secure," Alex said. They'd need to get that laptop examined; they might need a search warrant. She picked up a business card from a little tray on Jeanne's desk – good, it showed a fax number.

"Oh, it is - the commands are encrypted, and you need a password to run the software," Jeanne said. "The thing is, when we looked at the activity log for the recent unlock incidents, there was no tag at all."

"How does that happen?" Bobby asked.

"We're trying to figure it out," Jeanne said with a shrug.

Alex shared a look with her partner. "So that means someone hacked Safety Shield's system," she said.

Jeanne bristled a bit. "Not necessarily," she said. "It could be a corrupted file in the remote installation, or possibly a hard-wire problem at their store."

"You know, Jeanne," Bobby said, "I saw a commercial on TV about a security system that lets you control it from a cell phone. Does Safety Shield have that?"

"Not yet," Jeanne replied, "but smart phone technology is part of our next major upgrade; it should be rolled out third quarter, if the developers stay on schedule. I heard they were in beta."

Bobby leaned closer with a question about the alarm, and Jeanne happily turned her full attention to him. Alex pulled out her phone and dialed Captain Ross. She asked about getting access to the Winters' laptop and gave him Jeanne's fax number in case a search warrant was ready in time.

She saw that Alonzo Matthews had reappeared at the conference room door – he looked determined this time.

"Goren, it's time for us to..." Alex said, snapping her phone closed. She waved at Matthews and took a step in his direction.

"Thanks for your help, Jeanne," Bobby said. "Oh, and if a fax comes in for us..." He pointed to the machine on the corner of her desk. "Is that okay?" Alex wasn't surprised that he'd paid attention to her phone conversation while talking to Jeanne.

"Sure, no problem," Jeanne replied with a big smile for him.

Mid-way across the room, Alex whispered, "That was fun for you."

"Hmm?" Bobby's attempt at an innocent expression brought a quick snort of laughter from Alex. She reined in her amusement as they entered the meeting room.

Matthews made the introductions, and then began a detailed history of his company's work at the new Winter Market site. He obviously wanted to deflect all culpability for the events leading up to Robert Winter's murder.

Alex didn't blame Matthews for trying to protect his company, but he was starting to drone. She wasn't about to waste two hours in this little room. Fortunately her partner felt the same way.

"I was wondering..." Bobby said, abruptly interrupting Matthews. He rose from his seat at the table. "...about the tag code that tells you where a command was issued." The others stared at him dazedly as he balanced his open binder on one hand, grabbed a marker and began writing on the whiteboard. He listed the dates of the six system shutdowns. "How is it that those commands had no tag?" Bobby asked. "Have you been able to reproduce that error?"

Matthews cleared his throat and replied, "No, although we're still-"

"No? Well," Bobby said, "what about the fact that the alarm went off five minutes or ten minutes..." He added the delay time to each line on the whiteboard. "...or thirty minutes after the shutdown? Is that normal?"

The IT guy shook his head. "No, in fact, there's no reason the alarm should go off at all for a lock or unlock command."

Alex tapped her pen lightly on the table. "Have you checked the Winters' laptop computer to see if the shutdown commands could have come from there?"

Matthews answered, "Yes, we tested it and also the in-store control panel after the first two events: both worked normally. If the laptop or the in-store panel had been used, the commands would have been logged with the tag."

"Any signs of tampering?" Alex asked.

"I ran the tests myself," the IT guy said. "There was no tampering. Just to be safe, I re-installed the laptop. Honestly, all of this has been completely out of the normal range of errors – it's hard to know where else to look."

The engineer who'd done the hardware installation spoke up. "It's pretty much the same with the physical setup in the store. We replaced whole sections of the wiring, but..." He turned up his palms. "The shutdowns still occurred."

"So..." Bobby said, placing his hands on the table and looking from one to the other. "The chances that this is accidental..."

"Slim to none," said the IT guy.

Alex shared a look with her partner. They were piling up the questions for this case, but not finding answers.


	5. Chapter 5

**Home of Nancy Winter**

**Park Slope, Brooklyn, NY**

**Tuesday, May 20**

* * *

><p>There were still plenty of cars parked on the Winters' street when they returned, but this time Alex found a spot close to the house. Frannie's minivan and Ron's sedan were missing from the driveway.<p>

Captain Ross had faxed a search warrant to the Safety Shield office before they left. When Bobby called Mrs. Winter, she'd promptly agreed to let them take the laptop for testing. Bobby folded the warrant into his binder, and they walked up the driveway to the house.

They only intended to pick up the laptop and go, but when Mrs. Winter answered the door, she insisted that they come inside. There were fewer people and more flower arrangements than there'd been in the morning.

"Thanks for seeing us again," Alex said

"Come on through to the back porch. Frannie took the children over to her house – they behaved the best they could, but it's hard for them." She paused at the kitchen doorway. "Mark, dear, will you bring the computer from Dad's office? It's under the desk, in that black bag."

Mark Winter was leaning against the refrigerator, talking into his cell phone. He quickly ended the conversation when he saw the detectives. "Sure, no problem." He smiled at Alex as he passed.

The kitchen table and counters were heaped with food: fruit baskets, casseroles and platters of sandwiches. Mrs. Winter waved at the abundance with a brief laugh. "I told Frannie we should start selling gift baskets at the stores – we'll make a mint!"

She needed her handkerchief as her laugh turned into a sob, but she recovered again by the time Mark returned with the black nylon case. He accompanied them out to the deck.

Alex paused behind one of the chairs at the round table on the deck. Mark swiftly slipped past his mother and Bobby to sit in the chair beside her. Alex didn't miss a beat as she calmly moved over, offering the seat instead to Mrs. Winter; she then took the next chair. She kept a straight face although she badly wanted to laugh at Mark's obvious disappointment. Bobby took the fourth spot, next to Alex. She didn't need to look at her partner – he'd seen Mark's attempt.

Mrs. Winter, who hadn't noticed the brief comedy, pushed the case across the table. "You keep it as long as you need," she said. "It's got the cords and everything inside. I don't use it at all."

"Did your husband use it?" Bobby asked.

"A little. I think the last time he opened this thing was when the young man from the security company was testing it."

"What do you think you might find on there?" Mark asked.

"Someone gained access to the store's security system," Alex said. "We need to know the initial point of entry."

"You think it was from this computer?" Mark looked offended.

Bobby replied, "If a hacker found a way to put spyware or malware on it, you wouldn't know it was happening."

The sliding door was opened slowly, and they all turned. A young woman smiled self-consciously as she said, "Aunt Nancy? Frannie's on the phone – do you want to talk to her? Sorry to bother you..."

"That's all right, dear, I'll come in. Please excuse me," Mrs. Winter said as she rose. At the door she looked back. "You be sure to let me know if you need anything else. And don't go without saying goodbye."

Alex shifted restlessly – they'd simply come to get the laptop, and she'd rather not give Mark any opportunities. But as the door slid shut Mark looked at her and asked, "You think someone inside the store did this – an employee?"

"Well, they had easy access," Bobby replied. "Do you think your father's employees are trustworthy?" Bobby rested his elbows on the table, drawing Mark's attention. He didn't seem in a hurry to leave.

Mark shrugged. "Hey, I haven't been around for nearly twenty years, but Dad always tended to think more highly of people than they deserved."

Bobby focused his gaze on Mark, but spoke to his partner. "Trust seems like a commendable trait, Eames, doesn't it?"

Alex asked, "You think your father was gullible?"

"No, nothing like that," Mark quickly replied. "He just... gave people the benefit of the doubt. It worked for him."

"But not for you," Bobby said.

Mark leaned back, looking uneasy. "Look, my dad was a great grocery man – ask anybody - but I couldn't fit into his way of doing business."

"That's why you moved to Florida?" Bobby asked. "To get out of range?"

"I found what works for me," Mark replied. "He understood."

"He certainly was generous," Bobby said. "He got you started in your carpet business. How big of a check did he write for you? Ten thousand? Twenty?"

If Mark was surprised or irritated by the question, he didn't show it. "That would be between me and my parents," he replied with a smile.

"How about Ron?" Alex asked. "Does the grocery business work for him? Is he a great grocery man?"

Mark shrugged again. "Ron... Well, if he wanted, Ron could have done something else, too. Dad never made me feel I had to follow in his footsteps."

"But maybe Ron felt that way," Bobby said, leaning toward Mark. "Maybe he wanted a check and a ticket to Florida, too?"

Mark looked truly uncomfortable now, probably wondering if they suspected his brother. "No, no – Ron's okay with the store. He's fine."

Alex shared a quick look with her partner. Bobby was on the same page: Ron merited a closer look.

She also wanted to get out while Mark was off-balance - she was afraid he'd ask for her number if they stayed any longer.

* * *

><p><strong>MCS, 1PP, NY<strong>

**Tuesday, May 20**

* * *

><p>Alex led the way out of the elevator into the MCS squad room. She and Bobby strode past their desks to the break area, where she began rearranging items on the counter. Bobby waited patiently, holding a large platter of deli-made sandwiches. Once Alex had cleared enough space she moved aside to let him set it down.<p>

Several detectives and officers had followed them, attracted by the sight of food. They hovered until Alex stepped clear and said, "Help yourselves."

She and Bobby backed away as the sandwiches disappeared. Captain Ross came out of his office to watch, and he joined them.

"What's all this?" he asked.

"Mrs. Winter sent it," Alex said. "She ran out of room in her kitchen, and people kept arriving with food."

"So you were doing her a favor," Ross said with a tight grin.

"She practically twisted our arms, Captain," Alex replied. She didn't mention the large fruit basket that had already been divided and deposited in her car and Bobby's. "Oh, and we saved this one for you. Roast beef." She held out a paper bag.

Ross accepted it. "Thanks. While you were out, we got confirmation on Jared McKay's alibi. He's still in the holding cell – you can street him any time." He turned back toward his office. "Come on in. Did you get the Winters' laptop? I told the IT guys to give you top priority."

"We dropped it off on our way in," Alex said, entering the captain's office. "Mrs. Winter thought it hadn't been turned on in the past week, and the Safety Shield folks told us they reinstalled their program, so..."

Bobby continued, "If someone hacked into the security system, it probably wasn't through this computer."

"What's your theory?" Ross asked. "Have a seat."

The detectives gave him a summary of their interviews at the Safety Shield office.

Bobby concluded, "I think we're looking for someone already inside the system, not an outside hacker. Safety Shield says they restrict the access, but it doesn't look too difficult for an employee to just walk up to a monitor and... explore."

"You have the list of their people with access," Ross said. "Keep searching. What else are you working on?"

"Family members and Winter Market staff," Alex said.

"Plenty of possible suspects," Ross said.

Bobby nodded. "Plus the owner of that other grocery store. We're seeing him tomorrow morning."

"The competition," Ross said.

"Right. Ben Beldsen," Alex said. "His store is called Best Fresh Foods, also in Long Island City. He tried to purchase the same store in Park Slope that Robert Winter got, but he was too late. Apparently Ben has a bit of a temper."

"Okay, keep me updated," Ross said. "I put a rush on the financials of Winter Market. You should have them within the hour. Let me know if you need help." He held up the lunch bag and nodded his thanks.

* * *

><p>They didn't really need the interview room, but they both liked having the white boards at hand and a clean table to spread out their work.<p>

"Winter Market has forty-one employees between the two stores," Bobby said. He referred to some stapled sheets. "They're non-union, but they pay comparable wages. The benefits package is decent."

"Well, not everyone may be satisfied," Alex said. "It looks like Lasalle understated those bookkeeping errors. There are consistent cash losses – different amounts, nothing too large."

"Trying not to attract suspicion?"

"If these were really honest mistakes," she said, "you'd think there'd be some errors in the other direction, too. I want to see when this began, and I think we need to talk to Brother Ron."

Bobby picked up a different set of papers and began to study them. In a few minutes he tapped the table to get her attention. "Eames." Alex looked up, and he continued. "When Frannie said there was a fight over the Park Slope property, she wasn't kidding. Beldsen filed a suit against Winter for seven million dollars."

"What? That can't be the value of the property, even if you include all the stuff inside the store."

Bobby kept scanning the documents. "Beldsen claimed he was the first to make an offer to the seller. The seven million reflects his business loss, he said. This would have been his second store, too."

"Wait," Alex said. "He sued Winter? Not the seller?"

Bobby shrugged. "Interesting. Winter's lawyer pointed out that Winter had a contract, and that Beldsen had nothing in writing."

Alex tsked. "Talk about your frivolous lawsuit. It didn't actually go to court, right?"

Bobby quickly checked several pages. "No, it didn't." He looked up at Alex. "There's no record of a settlement, either. Why did Beldsen just give it up after all that effort?"

"Well," Alex said, "our chat with him tomorrow morning should be fascinating."

She went back to the accounts, and Bobby began scanning the LUDs for the Winter home. They worked quietly again for a while, each making notes. Finally Alex sat back to stretch her neck, and realized that Bobby was watching her.

"What?" she said.

"Mark Winter is interested in you."

Alex wasn't surprised at his comment – Mark hadn't been subtle. She could tell Bobby was keeping his voice neutral to find out if she returned the interest. "I noticed," she said, setting down her papers. "He was completely inappropriate – who acts like that at a wake for his own father?"

Bobby started fiddling with his highlighter pen. Alex didn't go back to her research. She leaned her forearms on the table to wait for him.

"But, um," he said, "but if – if the circumstances were different..." Bobby looked at some spot on the wall behind Alex. "He looks like a nice guy."

"You know what?" she said. "We don't get different circumstances, Bobby – we just get things the way they happen. And I have a problem with people who-"

Her cell phone, lying on the table, beeped and vibrated with a loud buzz. Alex checked the display. "It's my Mom," she said. "I'm going there for dinner tonight; I bet she's checking up on me."

Bobby rose, but she gestured for him to stay. "It's okay," she whispered to him. She flipped open the phone. "Hi, Mom! Don't worry, I didn't forget."

It was her mother's husband, Dan, who replied. "I know you didn't, Alex, but... we need to postpone."

She smiled. "What? You got a better offer than dinner with me? I admit I'm usually late..."

"No, nothing like that," Dan said. "It's, umm... Well, let me tell you what happened."

Alex's teasing attitude evaporated instantly as Dan explained that her mother had felt unwell yesterday. He'd noticed that she wasn't speaking clearly. He'd immediately given her aspirin and called for an ambulance on the guess that she was having a stroke.

Alex abruptly stood up, knocking her chair over with a clatter. She was vaguely aware that Bobby was standing directly in front of her, watching her keenly. She felt dizzy.


	6. Chapter 6

**MCS, 1PP, NY**

**Tuesday, May 20**

* * *

><p>Alex listened, stunned, as her step-father continued the story. His suspicion had been correct: at the hospital, the doctors determined that her mother was having a mini-stroke. They quickly administered anti-blood-clot medication, and kept her in the hospital overnight for observation. She'd been resting at home since her release this morning.<p>

Alex thought Dan's confident, upbeat report was slanted for her benefit. She'd seen her mother after the first stroke: barely able to walk or speak. It had taken months of therapy to recover, and she never really got back to normal.

"She says she's feeling good," Dan said, "just a little tired. We're going to take it easy tonight, and see how she feels tomorrow."

"This started yesterday?" Alex said. Her voice was strained. She looked up into Bobby's eyes. He was still standing there, looking as worried as she felt – probably more worried, since he had no idea what had happened.

"Yeah, it was maybe four o'clock," Dan said.

"Did you call anyone?" Alex asked, knowing the answer. If her sister or one of her sisters-in-law had known of this, it would have gone around the family within minutes.

"No, but let me tell you why-"

Alex shut her eyes. "Dan, she had a stroke, and you didn't tell us?" She heard Bobby inhale sharply.

"Alex, it happened so quickly," Dan said, "and the doctors caught it in time. She didn't want me to call. I swear, she looks good, and she says she feels okay – just tired."

"I can be there in an hour," Alex said.

"Why don't you wait a couple days on that," Dan said. "We're going to turn in early tonight."

Alex went numbly through the rest of the conversation. She closed the phone and dropped it onto the table. She couldn't move from where she stood, staring at Bobby's tie. She was grateful he didn't say or ask anything yet.

She'd been running around the city, completely unaware that her own mother was having a stroke! What if it had been a major stroke instead of mini? Her current case involved a family that lost a parent suddenly – it could have happened to her as well.

She finally raised her eyes to Bobby's. "So, you heard," she said.

He nodded. He came a little closer and spoke softly. "Stroke. How bad?"

"Dan says it was a mini-stroke." She rubbed at her eye with the ball of her hand. "...and the doctors gave Mom that medication-" Her throat closed.

"...to prevent clotting, yes," Bobby said. "If they give it within the first few hours... There was no damage?"

Alex sniffed. "They don't think so. But Dan said... not to come tonight. Mom's tired..." She could only take short, shallow breaths. Her tears were rising quickly. She tried to cover her crying with a cough, but it didn't work.

"Where's that handkerchief?" she choked out. It was pressed into her hand.

When Bobby gently laid his hands on her shoulders and pulled her closer she didn't resist. She leaned her forehead against his chest and let her tears flow. His hands on her back rubbed up and down, trying to comfort her.

She soon began to get control of her crying. She took a deep breath. Bobby let his hands drop to her elbows, holding her lightly.

Alex's back was toward the door – the glass door, she realized, in the glass wall. There was no way her meltdown had gone unnoticed. She took her time wiping her eyes.

"So," she said, and then stopped. How could her voice sound so shaky with one little word? She cleared her throat and shook back her hair from her face. "So, I guess everyone is watching me have a breakdown?"

Bobby still hadn't moved away, although they weren't touching now. "Umm, not everyone," he said, slanting a glance toward the main room. "Some people are out today, you know."

Alex laughed, but immediately felt tears spilling again. "Cut it out. What about the Captain?" She blotted her eyes with the handkerchief.

"Yeah, he's there."

"Great."

"But you've got a clear path to the ladies' room. No, don't go yet." He bent down to her level, examining her face. "Get ready, and I'll tell you when it's safe to move."

She blew her nose again and grabbed her cell phone. She sniffed. "Thanks. I just need some time-"

"I know." He righted the chair she'd knocked over. "Okay, go now. Don't let the Captain make eye contact."

Alex held her head up, turned and walked briskly toward the ladies' room. She avoided every face as she went. In her peripheral sight she saw Ross move toward her, but she didn't pause.

Once inside the restroom her phone rang again. The display showed it was her sister-in-law Carla. Obviously Dan had been making the round of calls to the family.

By the time she returned to the squad room she'd talked to her sister and both sisters-in-law. Her step-father had given them all the same report, and had persuaded them all not to come to the house. Alex felt marginally better, but this had been a close call for her mother – too close.

She saw Bobby pacing in the interview room, and she headed back there. This time when Ross approached, Alex stopped.

"Eames," he said, "if you need some time off for your mother, just take it - whatever you need." He must have talked to Bobby while she was hiding in the restroom. She needed to thank Bobby for that.

"Thank you, sir. I'm not sure right now if I'll need it."

"Goren can handle the investigation for a while if necessary."

Alex hoped she looked calm, cool and collected. "I'll let you know."

As she entered the interview room, Bobby took a seat at the table. She dragged a chair next to him and sat down. He turned toward her expectantly.

"I talked to my family," Alex said, tucking her hair behind her ear. "Nobody else knew about it, either."

"Tell me what happened," he said.

Alex repeated the events Dan had described, along with a few details she'd picked up during her phone calls. Bobby listened intently through her entire account.

"A mini-stroke isn't actually a stroke," he said when she finished. It's a transient ischemic attack."

"I know," she said. "I read a lot about strokes after Mom had her first one."

"It can lead to a full stroke, but when they treat it immediately it doesn't usually cause brain damage or impair physical function. Your, um - Dan did the right thing, to give her aspirin."

"I know that, too, but..." Alex held out her hands. "Look at me – I'm still shaking!"

"Of course you are – this is your mother," Bobby said. He leaned close. "I think you should call him back - tell him you'll come tomorrow and make dinner for them. And, uh..."

"And what?"

"I'll come and help you cook."

Alex had been gazing at her hands, but at his last words her eyes snapped to his face. "You will?"

He nodded earnestly. "We can stop to pick up whatever food we need, and if you want to sit and talk to your Mom, I'll take care of the cooking."

Alex leaned back in the chair, blinking against a new wave of tears. "I swear, Bobby, if you make me cry again in front of the whole squad room...!" She'd intended to return his handkerchief, but now she needed it once more.

"Eames..." He looked embarrassed. "This way they don't have to do a thing. And you need to see her. Go ahead – call."

She reached for her phone. "Thank you, Bobby. And thanks for telling Ross – I really wasn't up to that." Alex met his gaze and held it. She hoped he understood how much she appreciated his thoughtfulness.

Her step-father resisted her offer at first, but eventually he agreed.

"Don't prepare anything, Dan," Alex said. "We'll cook, wash the dishes, and do whatever else needs to be done."

"Alex-"

"I mean it," she said. "You must be tired, too. Look, we're not company. So don't let Mom run the vacuum or anything like that. Promise me."

"Hang on a minute." Alex heard them talking. Dan came back on the line and said, "All right. We'll see you tomorrow, but you'll have to face your mother about kicking her out of her kitchen."

Alex laughed. "I'll let Bobby take the heat." She winked at him.

* * *

><p><strong>Queens, NY<strong>

**Wednesday, May 21**

* * *

><p>"Is it okay for me to come?"<p>

Alex was driving, so she could only spare a quick glance at her partner. They were on their way to the Best Fresh Foods store in Long Island City, and had been discussing security technology. It only took a second to shift gears mentally; she'd been expecting him to question her about her mother.

"You mean to my Mom's house tonight?"

"Yes. It's just," Bobby continued, "I invited myself. If you think I shouldn't come..."

Alex frowned. "You're not getting out of this, Goren. You promised to cook, so you'd better show up."

Out of the corner of her eye she saw him turn toward her. "Did you talk to them again last night?" he asked.

"No, Dan said they were going to bed early, and he's been known to unplug the phone and let it all go to the answering machine. I did spend about two hours on the phone with my sister, brothers, sisters-in-law, and Mom's sister. We even told my Dad, and he was... suitably concerned."

"Do they talk to each other?"

Alex grimaced. "Not if they can help it."

She sensed Bobby's eyes on her. "You're feeling better about your Mom today," he said.

Alex nodded. "A little, yeah." She took a deep breath. "My sister-in-law Carla – she's the nurse – was going to call them this morning. She'll let us know if there's a problem. Otherwise..."

"Mmm. No news is good news."

"The rest of my family's mad at me because Mom turned down all their offers, but she's letting us come."

There was a long pause before Bobby spoke. "Is that – does that mean–"

"That means we'd better enjoy it tonight, because they're not going to let me get in first again." She turned for a quick grin at him. "Thanks."

She returned her attention to the road, but she could tell Bobby was smiling.

He said, "We should bring flowers for your Mom."

"Good idea. She likes mums." She added, "Dan likes Corona Extra."

* * *

><p><strong>Best Fresh Foods<strong>

**Long Island City, Queens, NY**

**Wednesday, May 21**

* * *

><p>Ben Beldsen's office in the back of the Best Fresh Foods store was larger than the one at Winter Market, but it felt smaller because of the clutter. His desk and two file cabinets were covered with stacks of papers, mail and magazines. Nearly every bit of wall space was filled with certificates or shelves of trophies and chachki. This was the office of a pack rat.<p>

There was a young woman whose desk was right outside the office. Her desk was clean and organized. She was on the phone when they passed; Alex heard the word "organic" in the conversation.

Two chairs had been squeezed into the office for the interview. One was a molded plastic lawn chair, obviously pulled from a display in the store – the tag dangled from an arm. Alex couldn't avoid bumping elbows with Bobby as she took out her notebook. He grunted as he shifted his seat another inch closer to the wall.

"Yeah, sorry about the tight quarters," Beldsen said, though he didn't sound apologetic. He was seated behind his desk, moving piles of papers aside to clear the line of vision. "I don't spend much time in here, and stuff tends to accumulate. Marie keeps me organized."

Bobby said, "As long as none of the food you sell passes through here." He sounded irritated - they'd decided to test Beldsen's temper.

"Ha, good one," Beldsen said. "But don't worry, I got all A's from the Department of Health."

Alex quirked an eyebrow. "Yeah, we know how city health inspectors operate."

Beldsen obviously also knew about the tendency of some inspectors to accept or even demand bribes, because he responded passionately. "No! I know what you're thinking, and no way! A certificate on the wall won't bring the customers back if they think the food's not top quality, clean and safe. It's not worth it."

"So, Mr. Beldsen," Bobby said, changing topics without warning, "you've had an interesting relationship with Robert Winter. We know you worked for him in the past – we don't know how it ended. Did he fire you?"

"Of course not," Beldsen said with a frown. "No, in fact he liked me. I worked there while I was in my last year of college. It was... nineteen years ago."

"Is that when you got the idea to open your own store?" Alex asked.

Beldsen nodded. He was still fiddling with the clutter on the desk.

Bobby grabbed a tall stack of papers that was partially blocking his view of Beldsen, and let it drop onto the floor. "That's better. Now... You say Robert Winter liked you." He leaned forward to catch Beldsen's eye. "And yet you opened this store only a few blocks away from his. You wanted to steal away his customers."

"No. Look," Beldsen said, jabbing a finger toward Bobby, "you don't understand retail grocery. Two stores, close like this - we run different weekly specials, different promotions, and it attracts more people to both stores. I bet I helped his business by being this close."

"Very philanthropic," Alex said. "And when you sued him last year over the Park Slope store, were you still trying to help?"

"Ahhh, you need to hear the full story on that," Beldsen said, "not just Ronnie's version." Alex was gratified to see his face beginning to redden as he continued. "The only reason I even looked at that place was because he tipped me off it was on the market."

"Ron Winter told you to buy the property?" Alex asked, incredulous. "You're friends with him?"

"Not really, but I met him at a promotion, or reception, or whatever - given by a produce supplier last year. They were promoting the organics, you know, telling us how to do displays and all that. Anyway, Ronnie spent his time at the open bar, and he got kind of talkative about some property in Brooklyn that was practically move-in ready. Marie was there with me – she can tell you," Beldsen said. He banged on the wood paneled wall to his right and called loudly, "Marie! Can you come here a sec!"

The young woman's desk was directly on the other side of the wall, but they didn't hear a response.

"Why would Ron tell you about a piece of property his father was trying to buy?" Bobby asked. He crossed his arms and shook his head disbelievingly.

Beldsen puffed out a breath. "He never told me his father had bid on it. At the time I figured Ron was hoping I'd close this store and move everything to Brooklyn – eliminate the competition. I know: it makes no sense, but that's him - always looking for the easy way out."

"A second store is a huge investment," Bobby said.

"Tell me about it," Beldsen replied. "Ron probably thought I was as bad with money as he is – but I actually have a business plan!" He thumped his chest. "I've been saving for a second store practically since this one opened. Anyway, the Park Slope property was perfect, but then the Winters pulled that stunt on me. Hey, Marie!" He pounded the wall again, but there was still no reply.

Bobby slowly rubbed his jaw, quickly glancing sideways at Alex. "I have a different explanation, Mr. Beldsen. I think you've always paid close attention to Winter Market, and you mirror their innovations and sales."

Alex picked up the thread of her partner's logic and kept goading. "You occasionally talk to some of Robert Winter's employees – and you make it worth their while to mention what's going on there."

That must have struck a nerve. Beldsen ran both hands through his hair and shook his head angrily – but he didn't deny it.

Bobby added, "You thought you could actually get ahead of them this time, but something went wrong, and Mr. Winter got the new store. That got you angry."

"We noticed you use Safety Shield security for your store," Alex said. "The same as Winter Market."

Beldsen blinked in bewilderment. "So?"

"So we think you found a way to use your security software to get inside Winter's new store," Bobby said. "Do some mischief, sabotage his grand opening..."

"No!"

"But Mr. Winter surprised you, confronted you," Bobby continued, "and... you vented your frustration."

"You think I killed him?" Beldsen shouted, slamming both hands on the desk. "First off, I liked Bob Winter and would never hurt him; and second, I was right here Monday all day, until after closing, eleven PM, which Marie can tell you if she'd ever get in here – MARIE!"

As Beldsen hammered on the wall, a framed certificate dropped from the wall onto his arm. At the same instant Alex noticed movement on the shelf above Bobby. She called out a warning – too late - as something was shaken off the shelf by the vibrations.

A coffee mug plunged down.

It hit Bobby's head, and then splintered as it crashed onto the floor.

Bobby clapped a hand onto his head and hunched forward, but didn't say a thing. Alex was on the other side of him, and she couldn't see how badly he was hurt. Had it hit his eye? Her heart raced wildly.

"Oh, God, I'm so sorry!" Beldsen exclaimed. "You're bleeding! Let me, let me get something for you..." He stood up and gestured feebly.

Alex hurriedly pushed papers aside and leaned on the desk to get a better look. Bobby's eyes were squeezed shut. Blood was leaking steadily through his fingers and down his face and neck.

Bobby started fumbling blindly in his pockets with his right hand. Alex reached into his breast pocket and pulled out his handkerchief – that was what he was searching for. He took it with a grunt and immediately pressed it to his temple.

Blood had already stained Bobby's shirt collar and was dripping onto his suit and tie. If the cut was deep, the handkerchief wouldn't be enough to stop the flow of blood for long. Right now Bobby was applying pressure; eventually Alex had to determine if he needed stitches.

He seemed to be in pain, but so far he hadn't spoken or looked up at her or even moved much.

Beldsen, on the other hand, was hovering and fussing and cursing himself. He'd dug out a box of tissues, which he thrust at Bobby. Alex pushed it aside.

"I need a first aid kit," she said.

"Right, yes, right, I have a first aid kit," Beldsen said, panting. "Let me just..." He turned around a couple times, staring at the floor, the desk, the wall.

Alex deliberately took a deep breath – if she didn't get Beldsen out of the room she'd start hyperventilating, too. She pointed at the door. "Don't look in here – I bet Marie knows where it is. Go!"


	7. Chapter 7

**Best Fresh Foods**

**Long Island City, Queens, NY**

**Wednesday, May 21**

* * *

><p>After Ben Beldsen left the office, Alex touched Bobby's shoulder. He turned halfway toward her. His left side was a mess from all the blood.<p>

"How bad is it?" she asked.

"Mmm," was his vague reply. He lifted the handkerchief away from his head momentarily, and the blood immediately resumed flowing freely. The cut was on his left temple near his hair line – his eye was uninjured, she was relieved to see.

"Whoa." She pushed his hand back down on the wound. "Don't let go yet. Keep pressure on it."

It was impossible to maneuver in this cramped space. Alex was quickly becoming frustrated. She turned to study the desk, hands on her hips. It was old, made of metal, and heavy, but it might slide on the linoleum floor. She braced her feet and hands and shoved as hard as she could. Once it started moving she kept pushing until it pinned Beldsen's chair against the back wall. A stack of papers tilted and cascaded off the far edge.

"Wow, Eames!" Bobby looked terrible, but he was watching her in amusement. "Hey, I need to move this hide-a-bed at my apartment..."

"Shut up," she said, not able to respond to Bobby's humor.

Ben Beldsen reappeared, bearing a large first aid kit that looked brand new, a roll of paper towels and a packet of antiseptic wipes. "Detective, I am so, so sorry! It was a stupid accident..." His bravado had evaporated.

Alex took the things, set them on the desk, and held up her hand to silence him. Marie stood just behind him, peeking in at Bobby. "Mr. Beldsen," Alex said, "we know you're sorry."

"Should I call for an ambulance?" asked Marie.

"No!" Bobby replied.

"No," Alex said, "I think Detective Goren will be okay, but I need you to clear out so I can take care of my partner. Why don't you go get the surveillance video from Monday night."

She waved them away, cleaned her hands with a wet-wipe and then rummaged through the kit's contents.

She held up a bottle of liquid bandage. "This is good stuff," she said. "My mom always keeps it in stock for the grandchildren."

"Eames," Bobby said, "you don't have to do this. Just give me-"

"Sit still and let me do my Florence Nightingale routine, will you? You've only got one hand free."

"It's not that bad." Bobby started to rise, but Alex put her hands on his shoulders and firmly pushed down. Her adrenaline was still high.

"I mean it, Bobby. You stay right where you are." She glared at him until she felt him relax and sit back.

Alex pulled a couple sheets off the paper towel roll and yanked out a few more wet-wipes, then turned to Bobby again. "Here's the plan: if it's not still bleeding like crazy I'm going to clean you up and see if the liquid skin stuff will hold. Okay?"

Bobby didn't answer, but at least he didn't try to get up again – she took that as a Yes. She found a pair of latex gloves in her pocket and pulled them on.

"Let go slowly," she said, "and we'll see how it looks."

He obeyed. This time the blood only oozed.

"Not too bad." She plucked away the bloody handkerchief and gave him several wet-wipes. "Wipe off your hands," she said. "I'm going to clean around the cut so I can see how bad it is."

Bobby hissed as alcohol touched the wound. He leaned away from her.

"Sorry, sorry," Alex said. She rested a hand on his shoulder at first, then on his jaw as she carefully cleaned his temple, his hair and the side of his face. The cut was about an inch long, and it didn't look deep. That was a relief.

Bobby finished scrubbing his hands and tossed the wipes onto the floor. He raised a hand to his forehead, but Alex pushed it away. He tried again, twisting his neck to avoid her touch.

"Am I hurting you?" she asked.

"No, it's just... I'd rather..."

She blocked him again. "Bobby, this will go a lot quicker if you hold still. Please - get your hands away!"

Bobby finally held out his arms in surrender. Alex moved a little closer, standing between his legs. She tilted his chin up to give herself a better angle to work.

"Do I need stitches?" Bobby asked. He'd calmed down now, and was watching her intently. She focused on the cut, but she could see his eyes moving all around her face.

"No. It's not deep," she said, blotting with a paper towel. "If we can just stop the bleeding – good old head wounds!"

Alex flinched in surprise as Bobby's hands settled gently on her waist. Her eyes snapped to his. He returned her gaze steadily, unapologetically. "I have to do something with... my hands," he said with a tiny shrug.

The two of them remained frozen in place for a few moments, staring at each other. Alex knew he'd release her if she gave even the smallest signal of disapproval. But she didn't disapprove.

She patted his cheek softly and returned her attention to his wound, which had almost stopped bleeding. He relaxed under her touch as she dabbed on some of the liquid bandage. While that first layer dried she loosened his tie and collar, and used a fresh wet-wipe on his neck.

"You're really a mess, Bobby – this shirt belongs in a Friday the Thirteenth movie. We're going to run by your apartment before we go anywhere else today."

She felt the warmth of his hands as she worked. Bobby was quiet – he looked content. The office door was wide open, and Beldsen might pop in at any moment, but she didn't care.

In that instant, Alex had a revelation.

Perhaps the close physical contact had stimulated her thoughts. She was suddenly sure she understood Bobby's mysterious behavior over the last few weeks. He wasn't sick, or in trouble with his brother.

No. He'd been cautiously searching for a way to expand their personal relationship. His hesitation, which she'd misread as distress, was just Bobby trying to gauge her interest.

Alex knew he was very careful about her boundaries – he would never push for any intimacy that made her uncomfortable. She also knew he cared deeply for her, as she did for him. Right now she felt that affection flowing out of him and right into her. She felt very comfortable.

She met his eyes once more, and was sure he knew where her thoughts had turned. Neither said a word, but Alex pondered: did she want to make another attempt at dating? It hadn't quite worked out the last time they tried, but clearly Bobby was hoping for another chance. Did she want the same?

Maybe.

Several years ago, during her surrogate pregnancy, Alex and Bobby had briefly dated. Bobby had badly missed her at work, and she'd felt cut off from her normal life. She didn't remember which of them had suggested it, but they'd both eagerly agreed.

They'd gone out regularly for a month or so, and it had been a lot of fun. After she returned to work it gradually tapered off. They didn't break up. There was no blow-out fight to end it. They simply didn't feel the need to continue.

They probably should have talked about it more, but at the time their partnership had been strong, and Alex felt their friendship was strong as well. She saw their dating as an experiment that succeeded – it filled a need at a particular time, and then was put aside.

But now, as she added another layer of liquid bandage to the cut on Bobby's temple, Alex knew they had to re-open the discussion. It was a hopeful sign that she didn't dread it. In fact, standing there with Bobby holding her so intimately, she realized she wanted something beyond their work relationship.

For the moment, however, they had to keep their focus on the case.

"Beldsen certainly has the temper to be our killer," she said quietly, glancing at the doorway. She peeled off her latex gloves.

"Well," Bobby said, finally releasing his hold on her waist, "he might have shoved Mr. Winter in anger, but he wouldn't have stood back so coolly and watched him die."

"No, he wouldn't. He freaked at the sight of blood," Alex replied, lightly touching the wound to confirm that the seal was holding. "I sort of did, too." She swallowed hard – her heart was just now returning to normal speed.

"You did fine."

She stroked his cheek one last time, and then withdrew her fingers. "I don't see Beldsen stealing the money."

"Let's confirm his alibi," Bobby said. "The surveillance tapes will show if he was here. But I want to check out what he said about Ron Winter. There's something going on with him – I think he's in debt."

"I agree." She stepped away from Bobby, and he slowly rose. He seemed steady. Alex asked, "You feel okay?"

"I'll be fine." He gingerly picked up his bloody handkerchief. "That's the end of this one," he said.

"We have ibuprofen in the car," Alex said. "You should take a couple – this is all going to catch up with you eventually."

"Thanks, Doctor Eames." He winked at her.

"I need you feeling well enough to cook tonight," she said. "You're not backing out because of this little excuse."

* * *

><p><strong>Home of Ron Winter<strong>

**Middle Village, Queens, NY**

**Wednesday, May 21**

* * *

><p>Rick Winter answered the door at the detectives' knock. He broke into a big grin as soon as he looked at Bobby's forehead, which had swelled a bit and now sported a bruise nearly as colorful as Rick's. Rick opened the door wider and stepped back to let them enter. "How'd you get that?" he asked. "Chasing the bad guy?"<p>

"Nothing as exciting as that, unfortunately," Bobby said. "It was, uh..." He glanced down at Alex, silently asking for help.

"It was an accident," Alex said. There was no need to tell the whole ridiculous story of Ben Beldsen's dangerously cluttered office. "You're home from school again today?"

"Yeah, because this afternoon is the viewing for my grandfather." He was still staring at Bobby's bruise. "So... an accident?"

Alex replied, "Someone we interviewed was very clumsy."

"Oh." Rick clearly wanted to probe further, but they were spared by the appearance of his mother.

Alex recognized Ron's wife: she'd been among the crowd at Nancy Winter's home on the previous day, but they hadn't been introduced.

She clearly knew who they were. "You're the police detectives? Please come in. I'm Sharon Winter." She eyed Bobby's fresh injury, but she made no comment as she ushered them into the living room.

Sharon seemed to share Ron's expensive tastes. The furniture, carpet, curtains and paintings looked top-quality, and the flat-panel TV mounted on the wall was huge.

Sharon began to send Rick away, but Alex held up her hand. "If you don't mind, we'd like to talk to Rick, too. It's standard procedure to get statements from family members." She didn't add that they were hoping to glean information about Ron – something that might connect some of the dots.

Rick seemed pleased to be included, and he dropped into the leather recliner before his mother had a chance to respond.

Sharon sighed, but nodded as she took the love seat and indicated for the detectives to sit on the couch. "We were all here at home," she said, "when we got the call about Ron's father."

Bobby opened his binder and shuffled the pages of notes. "Rick was hurt at baseball practice at school that same evening, right?"

"It wasn't practice, technically," Rick said. "It was a scrimmage game between Varsity and JV."

"Right, you said that yesterday." Bobby nodded. "Mrs. Winter, were you or your husband there at the time Rick was hurt?"

"No," she replied. "I try to make all of his games, and Ron comes when he can, but I didn't know about this... scrimmage."

Bobby turned to Rick. "When you were injured, the coach called your mom to come get you?"

Rick nodded. "Yeah – Coach Tracey. I tried to tell him I was okay. I put an ice pack on it right away. The game was nearly over, and I wanted to stay in, you know? But he was all into policy and insurance and all that, so he made me come back to the locker room with him while he called."

"Were you here?" Alex asked, turning to Sharon.

"No," Sharon said. "I was just walking into the pharmacy when my phone rang – in fact, with everything going on, I still haven't gotten back there to pick up my prescription."

Just then a loud ring-tone sang out: "Take Me Out to the Ball Game". Rick had pushed the chair into the reclined position, but now he slammed the foot-rest down as he scrambled to get his phone out of his pocket and turn off the music.

"Sorry," he said as he finally silenced it. He poked the screen a few times. "I get daily updates for my fantasy baseball team."

"Can I?" Bobby leaned over to pluck the phone from Rick's hand. "That's a special app, right? It looks like you have a lot – aren't they expensive?"

Rick slid over onto the couch next to Bobby. "Some, but I get most free or for ninety-nine cents. Also, there's other app sites now besides the Apple Store. Look here." He took the phone back and tapped the screen a few times. "My dad found this one that shows the current stats on any team I want, and then it drills down to individual players."

"Was it ninety-nine cents?" Alex asked.

"Not this one – it was, like, six dollars." Rick glanced at his mother, suddenly looking guilty. "Dad got it for me - he knows all the good sites."

"I hope the department gets us iPhones soon," Bobby said. He set his binder on Rick's lap, and reclaimed the phone. "Could - could you write down the names of those web sites for me? Thanks. Oh, I see the Mets are first on your stats list. You're a Mets fan?"

"Of course," Rick replied. He paused in writing to look up suspiciously.

"Me, too," Bobby said with a grin, "but my partner likes the Yankees."

"Loves the Yankees," Alex said. "But anyway..."

"Rick, honey," Sharon said, arching her eyebrows at her son, "the detectives didn't come here to discuss baseball."

"Sorry about that. Umm," Bobby said as he retrieved his binder and ran his finger over a page of notes. He looked back up at Sharon. "So, you were at the pharmacy... What time was that call from Rick's coach?"

"It was about... six-thirty?" Sharon replied.

"Yes, it was," Rick said. "See, Coach called home first, but Dad must have been out in the yard or something, because he didn't pick up. The answering machine came on."

That was interesting. Ron had claimed he was home watching television before six o'clock – why did he miss the school's call half an hour later?

Alex didn't turn to look at her partner, but she could practically feel him coiling up to spring on that bit of information. She moved slightly to let him know she wanted the next question – he sighed and leaned back into the couch.

"Oh," Alex said, keeping her voice casual, "so I guess the school has a list with a primary contact number, secondary and so forth?"

"That's right; at the beginning of the school year we had to give at least two numbers for emergencies," Sharon replied. "Our home number was the primary."

"Did Ron say why he missed the call?" Bobby asked.

"Honestly," Sharon replied, looking at her son, "I never even thought to mention it. Rick is probably right, though – he might have been watering the garden."

"Is he usually home at that time?" Alex asked.

"Yes," Sharon said. "Six to six-thirty."

"Okay, thanks." Bobby looked up at Sharon from writing. "One last question. What time did you and Rick get here?"

"It was seven o'clock," Sharon said. "I remember because I usually watch the news, but Jeopardy was already on when I turned on the TV in the kitchen."

"You've been very helpful. Thank you for your time," Alex said. She tilted her head to see if Bobby had any more questions, but he closed his binder.

Bobby shook hands with Rick and had a quiet conversation with him as Sharon showed them out.

The front door had barely closed behind them when Bobby leaned down and spoke quietly. "I need to call Jeanne at Safety Shield – did you save her business card?"

Alex paused at the bumper of their car. She pulled her notebook out of her pocket – the card was tucked between the pages. She held it up, but snatched it away as Bobby reached for it.

"Are you sure Jeanne didn't give you a card herself?" she asked with a grin.

Bobby placed his binder on the car's roof. He peeked back at the house, then quickly, lightly grabbed Alex's wrist and neatly plucked the card from her fingers.

"Hey, no fair," she said, breaking into a laugh.

He was already dialing. As he waited for the call to go through, he shrugged sheepishly at Alex.

She smacked his arm before walking around to the driver's side to get in. Bobby also climbed into his seat, his phone pressed against his ear.

"Hello, Jeanne?" he said. "This is Detective Goren. I wonder if I could... Thanks for your help yesterday... No, actually, I was wondering if... Well, um, there is something you could-"

Alex didn't start the engine yet – she was enjoying Bobby's side of the conversation. Jeanne seemed to be gushing.

Bobby held the phone away from his mouth as he cleared his throat, then tried again to squeeze in his request. "Jeanne? You mentioned yesterday that the smart phone app is coming out soon... Yes, right. Could you tell me if the software is already configured to receive smart phone commands? Uh, huh... But could you check anyway?"

Alex realized where Bobby was going, and held her breath. If smart phone access was enabled on the security system, and if someone found a way to use it before it was officially released, that might explain why no normal ID tags appeared for those commands.

"Sure, I'll hold." Bobby covered the mouthpiece and whispered to Alex, "The development team isn't allowed to roll out any changes without the IT director's permission, but she says they've been known to sneak patches or pieces of code into production before-" He returned his attention to the phone. "Yes... I see..." Bobby was nodding his head seriously. "Thanks, Jeanne," he said. "If you can look into that... We'll be in touch." He snapped his phone shut.

Alex said, "Let me guess - the smart phone part works after all."

"Since May first. Eames," he said, "Rick told me his dad downloads apps all the time. What if Ron found a ninety-nine cent security app? He could be the one sending the shutdown commands."

"What a bargain that would be," she said, turning the key to start the engine. "It only cost his father's life."

* * *

><p><strong>Grover Cleveland High School<strong>

**Queens, NY**

**Wednesday, May 21**

* * *

><p>The baseball coach looked up from his desk as Bobby knocked on the doorframe. "Come on in," he said. "Have a seat. I'm Len Tracey."<p>

"Thanks for seeing us on short notice, Coach," Bobby said. He held a chair for Alex and then squeezed around the desk to study the case of trophies.

"We won't take up much of your time," Alex said, smiling at the coach to draw his attention away from Bobby. She opened her notebook. "Tell us about Rick Winter's injury at the scrimmage on Monday evening."

"He had a good solid hit, down the right-field line," the coach said, "and Ricky's a good runner, so the third base coach let him stretch it to a triple. He actually beat the ball, and was safe, but the throw was off-target."

"A baseball to the face..." Bobby said, turning from trophies. "That could cause serious damage to the bone structure, the eye..."

"Believe me, I thought of those possibilities," the coach said. "But fortunately the third baseman got a piece of his glove on the ball, so it wasn't full speed when it hit Ricky's cheek. It didn't hit him straight-on, see?" He gestured with his hand around his own face. "I told Mrs. Winter the school insurance will cover x-rays if her family doctor wanted it."

"So," Alex said, "you pulled him out of the game and called his parents?"

"Right, but it went to voice mail at the house, so I tried the second number, which was Mrs. Winter's cell."

Bobby asked, "And she got here... when?"

"About six-forty-five, give or take."

"Okay, thanks – we'll let you get back to your students," Alex said.

"I was sorry to hear about the grandfather," the coach added. "How's Ricky doing?"

"He looks a little better than I do," Bobby said, tapping his temple. He held out his hand to the coach. "Thanks for your help, Coach."

"Next time, Detective" the coach said with a grin, "duck."


	8. Chapter 8

**MCS, 1PP, NY**

**Wednesday, May 21**

* * *

><p>As Alex and Bobby entered the squad room they saw Captain Ross standing in the doorway of his office. He beckoned to them, so they bypassed their desks without pausing.<p>

Inside the office, Ross gestured for them to sit down. As the captain took his seat behind the desk, Alex saw him studying the cut and darkening bruise on Bobby's face. He also did a double-take at his change of clothes.

"What happened to you, Goren?" he asked. "Are you all right?"

"Yes, sir," he replied, touching his wound. "There was a... little accident."

"Accident?" Ross clearly was curious. Alex appreciated his restraint. "Little?"

She said, "While we were interviewing Ben Beldsen at his store, a coffee mug slipped off a shelf."

"A mug. And it landed on your head?" Ross asked, pointing at Bobby. His eyes were wide with concern. "You didn't need stitches?"

Bobby shook his head. "Eames patched me up."

"They had a first aid kit," she added.

Ross looked back and forth between them for a moment, and then said, "Be sure to write this up fully when you do the paperwork. And turn in your dry cleaning bill, Detective. You sure you're all right?"

"I'm fine," Bobby said. "And, uh, Beldsen already asked for the bill."

"Do you suspect him?"

"No, sir," Alex said. "He showed us his store's security videos. He was there Monday evening, along with half a dozen employees, until they turned off the lights around eleven."

"No gaps?"

"He went out about for about fifteen minutes around five-thirty," Bobby said, "and came back with Chinese take-out from a place around the corner."

"What about his law suit against the Winters?" Ross asked.

Bobby said, "Beldsen blames it on Ron – he got a few drinks in him at some trade show last year, and told Beldsen about the Park Slope property."

"Beldsen didn't know the Winters already had a contract when he tried to make a bid," Alex added.

"He sued over that?"

Alex replied, "He got ticked off at Ron, though he says he liked Robert."

"He, he," Bobby said, gesturing with both hands, "he reacted too strongly at the sight of blood to be the killer. The killer was able to detach himself from the event, and wait while Robert Winter bled out and died. Beldsen isn't dispassionate like that."

Ross leaned back in his seat. "Okay, so why did he drop the lawsuit?"

"His lawyer told him he was losing money with no chance of winning," Bobby said. "He's looking at other retail properties in Brooklyn and the Bronx now."

"Captain," Alex said, "we want a search warrant for Ron Winter. There's a discrepancy between Ron's account and his wife's of Monday evening's events. He wasn't home when he said he was - right at the time of the murder."

Bobby added, "Also, some red flags have popped up - money and finances."

Ross sat up straight. "Money's a strong motivator. You think he could have killed his father?"

Alex turned to look at Bobby, and saw in his expression that he wasn't ready to accuse Ron yet. She felt the same hesitation. "Maybe," she answered. "That's why we want to get the warrant for his financials."

"And for his car GPS and cell phone," Bobby added. "We think he sent the shutdown commands to the security system."

"Okay, if you caught him in a lie, that's grounds for a warrant. Write it up, and I'll find a judge to sign off," Ross said, reaching for his phone. "I'll give the ADA a heads-up."

As the two detectives stood to leave, the captain added, "Eames, don't forget what I said yesterday about taking time for your mother."

She turned back. "Thanks. It looks like she got the anti-clotting meds in time."

"That's good news."

As they approached their desks, Bobby asked, "When's your mom expecting us?"

Alex looked across the squad room at the wall clock, then perched on Bobby's desk. "Five-thirty or a little later. Do you think we can sneak out of here in forty-five minutes?"

Bobby sank into his chair and shrugged. "The captain said you can go whenever you want, Eames."

"Yeah, but I need my personal chef to come, too."

"No problem," he said, tapping his temple. "I have this head injury which might, you know..."

"Hey, how are you feeling? It's been a while since you took ibuprofen."

"I'm fine." It must have hurt at least some, because Bobby wouldn't look her in the eye.

Alex leaned closer and frowned at him. "Tell me, really."

He rolled his chair back, as though he was afraid she'd start poking at his wound. "It's a little sore, okay?" he said quietly. "But I'm fine."

"All right," she said, also lowering her voice. "Just asking. So, what do you have in mind for dinner?"

"I thought fish wouldn't take long to cook. Do they like salmon?"

"They love salmon, and so do I. Good idea - except now I'm hungry, thinking about it." Alex stood and rounded the desks to her seat. "I'll type up the warrant request – if it goes through the system at its usual lightning speed, we'll end up back here later tonight."

Bobby opened his binder. "I need to look at those web sites Ricky was talking about."

Alex was returning from the printer when Bobby called to her.

"Eames, look at this," he said, tapping his laptop screen. "Beldsen was right about the two stores creating more business when they're close." He'd dug up a business research website. "There are studies about competitors setting up shop close to each other – like Burger King and McDonald's."

"I've noticed that," she said, leaning on his desk to scan the article. She nudged his arm. "I thought you were shopping for black market apps."

He ignored her last comment as he continued. "It especially applies to city environments – both stores can thrive, and they actually generate business for each other. So it looks like Beldsen did his homework."

"My guess is," she said, "the law suit was a release for Beldsen's anger at Ron, for giving him inside information that turned out to be a dead end."

Bobby nodded. "I wonder if there was more between them than just Ron's loose talk at the organic food convention."

"It's worth looking into."

He switched to a different browser window on the screen. "Oh, and look at this," he said. "This is only the first web site I tried, and I already found two smart phone apps that claim to be compatible with any security system. It's not actually black market, you know." He looked up at her with a grin.

"Are they ninety-nine cents?" she asked.

"One's six ninety-nine, and the other's..." He checked the screen. "...five ninety-nine. If Ron bought any of these it'll show up on his credit card."

"Whenever we get the search warrant." Alex suddenly had a thought. "You know... When we talked to Nancy Winter yesterday," she said, sitting on the edge of Bobby's desk again, "she said her husband hadn't told Frannie that the new store would eventually be hers. They probably didn't tell Ron about that plan, either."

Bobby folded his arms on his chest and leaned back in his chair. "Mark hinted that his brother might not be happy to follow in their father's footsteps. If Ron felt that one store was already more than he wanted to handle..."

"Then two stores – all his - would be cruel and unusual punishment," she said. "It was no slip of the lip when Ron let Ben Beldsen know about the property."

Bobby nodded, and she could see his intensity building by the minute. "He was hoping Beldsen got there first," he said, "so that he wouldn't have his workload doubled."

"But does that put Ron in the store Monday night?" she asked. "He wasn't at home, but was he in Brooklyn, having an argument with his father? Plus, the thing with Beldsen was a year ago."

Before Bobby could reply, Alex's phone rang. She hopped down from his desk and grabbed the phone as she circled back to her side.

It was Mark Winter. She sank slowly into her chair, with a corresponding sinking feeling in her stomach.

"What can we do for you?" she asked, intentionally using "we" instead of "I".

"Well, after I pulled out the laptop for you this morning I went through my father's desk," Mark said. "I thought there might be papers or something that was important..."

"Uh-huh," Alex said, grimacing. Mark's reason for calling sounded pretty thin.

"And I found some correspondence with his lawyer about a law suit with Ben Beldsen of Best Fresh Foods," Mark said. "I think you might want to look at it – I'd be happy to bring it to you."

The papers were probably copies of what they already had. She definitely didn't want Mark Winter hanging around the squad room. "Thanks, but there's no need for that," she said. "I can give you our fax number, or else we'll have a squad car stop by within an hour to pick up the papers."

"Well, actually, I'd like to come," Mark said. "It gives me a chance to see you again. I was hoping for a chance to talk to you - alone."

Alex glanced across the desks at Bobby, who was watching intently. She shook her head slowly. Bobby reached out a hand, offering to take the phone, but she waved him off. "No, Mark, that wouldn't be a good idea. First of all..." She paused. There were so many reasons – which to mention first? "We're in the middle of a murder investigation, and I can't allow it to be compromised by introducing a personal relationship. You understand that, don't you?" She kept her voice calm and tried to speak kindly.

"You're right," Mark said quickly. "I just wish we could-"

"And second," she continued, "this really isn't the time for that. You just lost your father. I'm not trying to offend you, but-"

"Okay, I get the message. But look, maybe sometime in the future..."

Alex tried for another few minutes to convince him that she wasn't going to change her mind. He didn't seem to get the message. It might have been mildly flattering to have such interest coming in her direction, except she couldn't find the same interest for Mark - none at all.

When she finally hung up the phone, she leaned back in her chair and exhaled loudly, rubbing her temple. Bobby was sneaking peeks at her as he pretended to work on his computer.

Alex was annoyed with Mark Winter, but she was afraid she'd snap at Bobby if he started questioning her about the call. The squad room wasn't overly busy at the moment; if she lashed out at her partner everyone would hear.

She took a few moments to calm her breathing, and then picked up her laptop. "Come on, Bobby," she said. "Let's go into the conference room and sort this out."

He followed, carrying his binder and an armful of file folders.

Once the door was closed, Alex sat at the table, staring at her computer screen. Instead of feeling calmer, her anger intensified. She said, "It just ticks me off that he won't take No for an answer. I was pretty clear, wasn't I?"

Bobby took his time answering. He selected a photo and stabbed it onto the wall with a thumb tack. "Maybe he thought you'd appreciate his persistence."

"More like pushiness," she replied. "Am I off base? It seems so improper for Mark to be acting like this only two days after his father was murdered! Is it just me?"

"No." Bobby was still fussing with the papers on the wall. "His timing is bad."

From the tone of Bobby's voice Alex knew what was coming – he was going to suggest that she think it over, and tell Mark to call again in a few months. But that made no sense, especially since she was certain that Bobby wanted her to consider him in the same way! Why else would he have been so forward earlier today in Ben Beldsen's office?

"Yes, it is," she said, "but there's more to it than that. Look at me, Bobby."

He turned, but instead of looking at her, he shuffled through the papers he'd dropped on the table.

"Bobby."

"Okay." He sat down across from her, and finally faced her almost squarely.

Alex forced herself not to smile – Bobby was nervous! Didn't he realize that she was far more open to his advances than to Mark Winter's?

She spoke slowly. "Mark rubbed me the wrong way from the beginning. You saw how he stared at me, as though we were in a - a singles bar instead of his mother's house. Is that supposed to flatter me?"

Bobby's eyes flitted around the room as he absorbed her words. "You seemed... annoyed. That was because of Mark?"

"Yes, and he hasn't done anything to change that impression." She sat back in her chair and crossed her arms on her chest. "Are you trying to persuade me to go out with him?"

That brought Bobby's eyes back to her face in a hurry. "No. Not unless you..." She could practically hear the wheels turning in his brain.

He wasn't picking up her hints, so she tried bluntness. "I'm not interested in him. Period. I'd rather cook dinner at my mom's house with you, okay? Let's not talk about Mark Winter any more."

Alex held her breath until Bobby finally relaxed into a smile.


	9. Chapter 9

**Home of Alex Eames' mother**

**Wednesday, May 21**

* * *

><p>"So, do I pass inspection? Am I allowed back into my own kitchen now?"<p>

Alex grinned at her mother, who sat across from her at the kitchen table. She replied, "Are you complaining about a night off from cooking?"

"It would have been nice about twenty-five years ago, when you were all teenagers," her mom said, wagging her finger at Alex, "not because you think I'm an invalid."

"Mom, you know it's not like that."

"Oh," she replied, "and I suppose you're not going to call your sister and brothers the minute you walk out of here to give a report on me?"

"Hey, if I don't," Alex said, "you know they'll be on your doorstep in another hour or so. I'm doing you a favor here."

"Good, because I don't want to repeat that grilling you put me through. How many times do I have to tell you I feel all right?"

Alex knew that Bobby, sitting beside her, was a little uneasy with the sharp banter between mother and daughter, but to Alex it was a good sign. This was their normal, friendly mode of communication.

When they'd first arrived at the house, Alex had been sure that her mother would be planted on the couch or an easy chair, unable to rise without help. She'd half expected to see a walker.

Instead, her mom had met them at the door, looking and sounding normal. Alex and Bobby were both carrying groceries, and she'd actually offered to take one of the bags!

Alex had spent the first ten minutes of their visit quizzing her mom and Dan on what had happened, what the doctors had said, how she felt, and what changes had been made to her medications. Their answers reassured her, but even more than that, her mom's appearance and behavior relieved Alex of the worry that had been hovering since yesterday.

Of course, there were signs that her mother wasn't one hundred percent normal: she allowed Alex and Bobby to take over her kitchen to prepare dinner. If she was at full strength, Alex knew she'd have insisted on helping in some way. Instead she'd sat at the table with Dan, watching and chatting. It was only now, after dinner, that she protested.

"You believe me, Bobby," Alex's mom said, "don't you?"

Though her mom wasn't at her usual physical strength, she still had her usual mental energy, and that was a good sign. Alex was glad to let Bobby receive some of her mom's intensity.

As Alex shifted slightly in her seat, for an instant she felt Bobby's arm lying across the back of her chair, but he withdrew as soon as she touched him.

"Of course I believe you," Bobby said. "Alex does, too. So..." He jabbed his thumb over his shoulder toward the stove. "There's plenty of salmon left – anybody want more?"

"No, thanks," her mom said, "but you can write down that recipe for me. I'd like to make it again sometime."

As they chatted, Alex thought about her partner. They hadn't yet discussed their close encounter in Ben Beldsen's office, but she could tell that Bobby was gaining confidence. She'd had fun shopping and helping him cook, and twice so far during the meal she'd leaned back in her chair to find his arm at her back. That kind of behavior was rare for him these days.

Alex decided to give him some encouragement.

He was hunched forward, writing out the salmon recipe, so she quietly laid her arm across his chair. In another minute he finished and sat up straight.

Instead of withdrawing, as Bobby had done, Alex turned her palm to make fuller contact.

Bobby looked at her – she knew he was surprised. She calmly reached with her other hand to take the recipe card from him.

"I don't think I ever cooked with capers before," Alex said as she scanned the recipe. "Do you even have any in the house, Mom?"

Her mother shook her head. "If I do, I'm afraid the freshness date is sometime in the nineties."

"Oh, there's half a jar left," Bobby said. "We'll leave it with you."

Alex rubbed his back lightly before moving her arm away. She glanced at the card once more, and handed it over. "Mom, you should trade recipes with Bobby. I bet he'd like your chicken recipe – the one with wine and onion soup."

For the rest of their visit, Alex made a point of touching Bobby – casually patting his arm or shoulder, or brushing elbows as they loaded the dishwasher. It wasn't much more contact than they usually made over the course of a work day, but her plan worked.

They were back at the kitchen table, with cups of tea and a plate of Italian cookies. Alex once again felt his arm across her chair. This time he didn't move away, and she smiled as she relaxed against him.

Unfortunately, it wasn't long before Alex's cell phone chimed with a new text message.

"Sorry, guys," she said as she pulled her phone from her belt. "I'm pretty sure this is work..." She read the message. "Yep - we got the warrant for the financials."

"What about GPS and phone?" Bobby asked.

Alex shrugged and held out the phone for him to see.

"Well, I know what that means," her mom said, rising from her seat. "It means I finally get my kitchen back! Who knows, Dan? They might even let me push the button to run the dishwasher – hallelujah!"

As they approached the front door, Alex's mom said, "You can stop worrying about me now." She held her arms open. "Okay?"

She stepped into her mom's embrace. "That's not going to happen – I can't help worrying, Mom."

"I know, honey," her mom replied, kissing Alex's cheek, "but believe me: I know what a stroke feels like, and this isn't it."

"I'm just glad you're all right." Alex returned the kiss.

"Me, too," her mom said. "You take care of your partner, and don't let anything else fall on his head." She turned to Bobby. "Come here, you."

He received a hug and kiss as well. "Thanks for letting us come," he said.

"Next time I'll cook for you, dear," Alex's mom said, patting his cheek. "Take care of my Alex."

"Okay," Bobby said with a chuckle. His eyes darted briefly over to Alex, and then he reached out to shake hands with Dan. She recognized his embarrassment at the endearment.

"And thanks for the beautiful flowers." Her mom held the door for Alex and Bobby as they went out.

When they reached the car, Alex said, "Wait a sec." She crooked her index finger to beckon Bobby. As he came back around from the passenger side, she opened her arms to him.

Bobby hesitated a moment before leaning down to embrace her.

Alex pulled him close. "This was a great idea. Thanks," she said, embarrassed at the tightness she felt in her throat. He shifted slightly, as though to move away, but she held on, turning her face into the side of his neck. "I needed this."

"I know," he said, rubbing her back.

Alex finally loosened her grasp, but stayed close. She gazed up at him. Sometimes it grated on her that he knew her so well, but tonight it was a comfort.

Bobby let his hands rest on her waist – for the second time that day. He said, "She was a little on edge at times, I thought. Maybe she was trying to prove to you that she was her normal self?"

"Could be. She's usually pretty edgy, though," Alex said with a grin. "Where do you think I got it from?"

"So you think she's all right?"

Alex sighed. "Mostly all right, I guess. Better than I was expecting."

Bobby stepped back a little. "Do you think we can do this again soon? Cook for them?"

"Not likely," she replied. "I'd love to, but we'd have to get in line behind the rest of the family, and by then Mom will be fed up with all the kid-glove treatment."

"Oh."

"That reminds me," Alex said, digging into her purse. "You want to drive? I promised to call the others – Mom was right about the status report."

He held out his hand to receive the keys. "You're letting me drive your car? Wow."

"I know, I know," she said, rounding the car to the passenger side. "And I had the seat and mirrors at just the right setting for me..."

* * *

><p><strong>MCS, 1PP, NY<strong>

**Wednesday, May 21**

* * *

><p>Alex looked up from her study of Ron Winter's bank and credit card records. She checked the time: it was nearly ten-thirty, and her muscles and brain were feeling stiff. She needed to stretch a little; Bobby could probably use a short break, too. She glanced across the squad room, and saw that he was still in the video room, reviewing the Winter Market surveillance tapes.<p>

The judge had only approved the search warrant for Ron's financials. For some reason he'd refused their request for phone and GPS records. It was aggravating, but they went to work to find him more evidence.

While Alex went through the records, Bobby checked the tapes to see if Ron appeared in the Brooklyn store before or after the shutdowns. They'd reasoned that if they saw Ron clearly checking out the security system, and if they could show he'd purchased a security app for his iPhone, the judge would grant the rest of their warrant request.

Alex called out as she approached the open door of the video room. "Hey, I need coffee. Let's hit the all-night donut joint. I'm buying. Oh boy, look at you!"

Bobby had swiveled his chair to face her. "What?"

She pointed to his injured forehead. "Amazing Technicolor bruises, that's what. It's not bothering you?"

He shook his head, and looked back at the TV screen. "I only got through the first three shutdowns..."

She grasped his sleeve and pulled gently. "That's why they invented the pause button, Bobby. Besides, at this hour we're not going to find a judge to sign a new warrant, no matter what we find."

"Okay." He set down the remote control and slowly rose, rolling his shoulders. "What'd you find?" he asked. "Any sign of the stolen cash?"

"It didn't show up in Ron's accounts. He could use it, though - he's a big spender. If he did take the seventy-five hundred from the safe, it'd barely make a dent in what he owes." She led the way toward the elevators.

"How bad?" Bobby asked.

"Over thirty grand. He's got four credit cards, and he's near the limit on every one. He's keeping up with payments for the most part, but he's in it up to his eyeballs."

"What does he spend it on?" Bobby asked.

"Nothing illicit, but don't get between him and the home shopping channel," she said. "Electronics, furniture, restaurants, theaters, vacations, home improvement."

"And smart phone apps?"

She pressed the call button for the elevator, then lightly rubbed her forehead. "Lots, including the day before the first shutdown, but I haven't been able to identify the particular ones he bought. It'll take a little digging, and I need caffeine for that." She looked up at Bobby. "Ron was there in the tapes, wasn't he?"

He nodded. "For the first shutdown, it took a while for him to show up. I don't think he realized right away what he'd done. But the next two are telling: he comes in afterward and goes straight to the control panel in the stock room."

"To see if it could trace back to him," Alex said. "He was feeling guilty."

"Looks like it. I haven't checked the rest yet."

"Once we know he bought a security app for his phone," she said, "together with his behavior at the store - we'll get the rest of the warrant tomorrow, and then we can match Ron's phone activity to the shutdowns. We can test it out – set off our own shutdown."

Bobby scratched at his neck. "Let's go to his Long Island City store tomorrow morning – we need to know what time Ron actually left on Monday. It should be on the security tapes. We need to talk to the assistant manager – Ron said he got a call from him that night."

"The funeral is tomorrow at ten. Some of the employees may go to the service."

"Oh, right. We should get there first thing, then." The elevator opened, and they stepped inside. As they rode down to street level, Bobby asked, "You want something to eat, or just coffee?"

"I'm still feeling pretty full from dinner," she said. "Didn't you get enough to eat of your own cooking?"

"Uh, well, there was, there was enough for them to have it again tomorrow, so... I didn't, umm..." Bobby shoved his hands into his pockets and stared at the floor.

"You're funny." Alex smiled and bumped him with her elbow. "Never admit to my mom that you left her house hungry – she sees that as a personal failure. Let's go to the noodle shop, then, instead of donuts – I like their soup."

The elevator opened and she strode toward the main entrance, slowing down just enough to let Bobby catch up and open the door for her.

It had rained briefly that evening, and the mild, fresh air outside felt good. Alex was relaxed as she and Bobby walked briskly. They'd gone a block or so when Bobby spoke. "Eames? I was thinking: if we can't cook again for your mom, maybe I could cook for you, sometime?"

She'd been waiting for this. After giving him what she hoped was clear encouragement at her mom's house, Alex had decided to let Bobby take the next step. She wasn't surprised it had taken several hours - he needed time to think and plan.

"Let's, um..." she said, and paused to look around. The Chinese noodle shop was small and was usually crowded, even this late at night. She wanted to give him her full attention.

They'd just passed a deserted bus stop; Alex abruptly turned back and sat on the bench. Bobby stared at her in confusion. She waved him closer and patted the spot beside her.

It took him a couple seconds to catch on, but his expression suddenly cleared, and he joined her on the bench.

She faced him as she said, "You said something about dinner?"

Bobby clasped his hands together and pressed them between his knees. "Yeah. I'd-" He stopped to clear his throat. "I think it's a good idea for us to eat together more often... We have to eat anyway, and..." He was moving restlessly. "Does that sound all right to you?"

"Eating together? We do that already."

"I know, but I'd like, um, to cook for you."

"Oh." She hoped she sounded encouraging.

"It's better than – you know, healthier than eating out all the time, and more relaxing, and economical..." He looked more than a little worried.

"And if you're the one cooking," Alex said, "it tastes better, too." She reached out to lay her hand on his arm, and his fidgeting paused. "I'd like that, Bobby."

"You would?"

"Yes. When?"

Bobby took in a long breath and let it out slowly, probably calming himself. Was he surprised she agreed so easily? Alex smiled at his nervousness and rubbed his arm lightly.

"Are Wednesdays good for you?" he asked. "Or Thursdays? Really, any day."

Suddenly she felt off balance – Alex had been expecting him to name a single day. "Days? Plural?"

"Whatever's best for you."

"Every week?" She knew what he'd said, but she was still mentally scrambling to comprehend his offer. "Dinner together every week – on the same day?"

To his credit, Bobby didn't lose confidence or backpedal. He must have known she'd be surprised by the invitation. "Mm-hmm. If it's always the same day, it'll be easier to keep the day clear..."

Alex thought about it. Bobby wanted a standing date – or something like a date. She certainly didn't object to having him cook for her on a regular basis. Her only uncertainty was the date aspect of his offer – if that's what it was.

Bobby's actions earlier in the day told her he wasn't simply interested in the economic merits of eating together. Neither was Alex. The idea of a special time with him - away from work, built into her weekly schedule – was very appealing. They were comfortable with each other; there'd be no stress of forming a new relationship. They already pretty much knew the worst about each other. It was time to work on knowing the best of each other.

Dinner with Bobby would be nice. That left her with one question.

"Would this be... dating?" she asked.


	10. Chapter 10

**Neighborhood of 1PP, NY**

**Wednesday, May 21**

* * *

><p>The metal bench of the bus stop wasn't particularly comfortable, but Alex was glad they were having this conversation there instead of the squad room. Even at eleven o'clock at night they couldn't hope for privacy anywhere in One PP. People walking past them on the street paid no attention.<p>

They were sitting side by side on the bench. Bobby had his forearms resting on his thighs, and he turned to gaze at her somberly.

"I've been thinking about this," he said.

"There's a surprise," Alex said, grinning.

"Yeah, well... To answer your question: yes, it would be like – yes, dating."

"Like dating, or actually dating?" Alex asked. Bobby suddenly looked panicky, so she added, "My answer is yes, Bobby. I just want to know what..." She caught his gaze. "...what you mean."

"What are my intentions?" he asked. He was still cautious.

Alex nudged her elbow into his side. "Let me rephrase: why did it take you so long to ask? I thought you were sick or something, the way you were acting the past couple weeks."

A yellow cab slowed down as it came near the bus stop, and Alex saw the window roll down. The driver looked out at them hopefully, and called, "No bus running this late!" She waved him off.

"Sheesh, a cabbie looking for a fare?" she said. "When does that ever happen?"

Bobby chuckled. He grew serious again as he studied Alex's face for a long moment, until she thought he might actually kiss her. She'd be surprised if he did, but she wouldn't resist. During their short stint of dating a few years ago, she'd learned he was a wonderful kisser. She steadily held his gaze as she waited.

He didn't kiss her. Instead, he slouched back against the bench and stretched his long legs toward the curb. "I was, uh," he said, rubbing his hands together. "All that time I was thinking about the best way to bring it up to you."

Alex almost scolded him for being shy, but she held her tongue. The past year of their partnership had been their most difficult, starting with her own kidnapping by Jo Gage, then his mother's death, and all the way through to Bobby's dangerous undercover assignment and return from suspension. She'd spent a lot of that time being angry at her partner, so she really couldn't blame him for being cautious.

"I guess you got the idea tonight?" she asked. "From cooking for my Mom?"

He nodded, shrugged, and then sat upright again. "I wanted something that would be comfortable for you – for both of us."

"Ah, I get it," Alex said. "Old folks at home."

Bobby looked at her, his head tilted. "You? Never. It's just easier to fit into your schedule this way. But if you'd rather go out..." He let the sentence trail off.

Alex leaned back and stared out across the street as she considered his proposal. Dinner at his place every week: it felt right for them.

Of course, they'd probably end up talking about their current case, and Bobby's table might very well be covered with files and photographs along with dishes and food. But that also felt right for them.

She was still musing when Bobby asked, "Why did we stop going out? Before, I mean. Were you – well, why did you stop?"

Alex wasn't surprised by his question, but she felt awkward as she framed her answer. "It wasn't... I didn't..." She turned a little to face him more fully. "When I came back from leave, after the baby, I wanted our partnership to be strong again. I was kind of worried that we might be out of sync – on the job, I mean."

Bobby nodded.

"You thought about that, too?" she asked.

"Yeah, but we got right back."

She grinned. "We did. I felt like work was the strongest part of our relationship. Going out was fun, it was great, but it was... I don't know – it didn't seem so... so necessary once I got back to work with you."

Bobby gave the tiniest nod of his head. Alex knew it wasn't exactly agreement – he was encouraging her to continue.

"Also, I was never sure if Captain Deakins knew about us," she said. "I didn't want to mess with our partnership."

"So the job was more important than the... personal relationship?"

Alex sighed. "I didn't think of it like that, no. It was about what worked best for us. Dating worked for us while I was out on maternity, and then..."

"...and then working worked for us when you came back?" Bobby finished for her.

She shrugged. "Hi, my name is Alex. I'm a workaholic."

He held her gaze for a long time before asking, "And what about now?"

"Now," she said, "now I want more than work. We can do both."

"Good."

They sat quietly for a while. She could tell Bobby was watching for any sign of regret. She had none. Although the moment was about as unromantic as it could be, Alex was happy and full of sweet anticipation. They hadn't kissed or even held hands. But she didn't need that now – they'd find the right time and place for intimacy and tenderness.

She said, "Wednesday's usually the best day for me. So... next week? Your place?"

He nodded and smiled.

"Okay, deal," Alex said as she stood up. "Let's get to the noodle shop - they're only open till midnight."

* * *

><p><strong>Winter Market<strong>

**Long Island City, Queens, NY**

**Thursday, May 22**

* * *

><p>"Mr. Delacruz to Customer Service." The young man deepened his voice and spoke slowly into the microphone, broadcasting his words over the store's PA system. "Mr. Delacruz to Customer Service." He released the on-air button and nodded solemnly to the detectives. "He'll be with you in just a minute."<p>

"Thank you," Bobby said, lowering his voice as well.

Alex hid her amusement by turning to look out at the store. This Winter Market – the original store – was smaller than the new one in Brooklyn, but it looked just as clean and well-stocked. Employees wore yellow polo shirts embroidered with the Winter Market logo.

The young man at the Customer Service counter had a badge dangling around his neck: "I'm Marty, and I'm here to help you!" It sported a glittery Employee of the Month sticker. Marty was probably aiming for a management position.

She spotted some mirrored half-spheres mounted in the ceiling, marking the locations of security cameras. Those cameras would tell them when Ron left the store on Monday.

Last night they'd been surprised to discover there was no sign of Ron on the Brooklyn store's security videos either before or after the fourth and fifth system shutdown, as there had been for the first three.

They hadn't agreed about the importance of Ron's absence. Alex figured that Ron didn't need to make an appearance for his final tests; he only wanted to make people blasé about the shutdowns, so they wouldn't be on alert when he took the cash. Bobby believed Ron would want to be in control of the situation – he was insecure enough that he'd need to know that the shutdown went exactly as planned before he took the chance of stealing from the safe.

Bobby had once again pointed out the four-day pause between the first three and last three shutdowns. He suggested that someone else caused the later ones. This idea opened a gaping hole in their case. Who else was out there?

"Here he is," Marty said, pointing.

Mr. Delacruz wore a shirt and tie, with his sleeves rolled back. He was a slim man, only a few inches taller than Alex, and had a neatly trimmed goatee-type beard. He approached them with a friendly smile, reaching to shake hands.

"How can I help you?" he said. His eyes darted to the shield on Bobby's lapel and then to the one on Alex's belt. "Have you found the person who k-" His grin faded as he faltered on the word "killed". "-who attacked Mr. Winter? We were all so shocked at the news..." He looked at Marty, who nodded his agreement.

"Were you here on Monday night?" Bobby asked.

"Yes, from two o'clock until closing. In fact," Mr. Delacruz said, "Marty was with me in the back office when I got the call from John Lasalle about - about what happened."

Marty nodded sadly. "Mr. Winter was a great boss."

"That's what we've been hearing from everybody," Alex said. She exchanged a brief glance with her partner, and decided they should split up. She'd talk to Marty while Bobby questioned Mr. Delacruz.

She smiled at Marty, and pivoted a little, putting her back to Bobby. "So, Marty, are you in college? I bet you're taking business courses, right?"

As Marty answered her, Bobby put a hand on Delacruz's shoulder and steered him down the closest aisle. She heard Bobby say, "You know, I've always wondered how you keep track of freshness dates..."

Alex asked Marty, "Did Mr. Winter know about your studies?"

"Sure – when I told him I was studying business, he said I could transfer to the new store and train with Mr. Lasalle if I want." Marty became animated as he talked about his career plans.

"Or you could stay here and train with Ron Winter?"

Suddenly Marty's energy dissipated. His eyes darted left and right, and he shrugged. "I guess I could do that, too."

"You get along better with Mr. Lasalle?"

"Well, it's, um, no, it's just that the schedule there will work out better for my class schedule."

Alex didn't buy that excuse. It was clear Marty had some problem with Ron Winter, but she didn't press the point. Instead, she nodded and said, "So tell me about Monday. What time did you punch in?"

"Four-thirty, after my class, and I worked till closing."

"And you saw Ron," she said. "When did he leave?"

"Five-thirty."

If Ron had gone straight home as he claimed, he'd certainly have been there at six-thirty for the call from the school about his son. Alex asked, "Is that normal for him?"

"Umm, sort of," Marty said. "I mean, he's usually here till six, but sometimes he leaves a little early." He must have realized he was ratting out the boss, because he quickly added, "And sometimes he stays late, too."

"Sure," Alex said, "it all balances out, right?" She wanted to keep Marty talking. "Does Ron ever call from home to check on things?"

"I don't think so." Marty shook his head slowly. "There was one time last summer Mr. Delacruz called him late at night – oh, wait, that was Mr. Winter senior."

"What happened?" Alex asked. It seemed off-topic, but she didn't want to discourage Marty.

"We had a big refrigerator in the produce storeroom that died. The temperature sensors went off at, like, ten o'clock at night."

"Wow, where do you get an industrial-size refrigerator at that time of night?"

Marty smiled broadly. "It was so great. Mr. Winter hired a refrigerated truck, parked it in the loading dock, and we moved the produce into it. I think it all took... maybe two hours total. Everything stayed one-hundred percent fresh until a repairman came out and fixed the refrigerator!"

"Clever guy," she said.

"Yeah, he really was."

Alex saw several framed photographs displayed on the wall of the Customer Service area. The picture of Ron Winter was labeled 'Owner/Manager', and Mr. Delacruz's title was 'Assistant Manager'. She'd seen black-framed photocopied pictures of Robert Winter posted around the store in his memory, but he didn't appear on the Customer Service wall.

Technically this store was Ron's responsibility, and yet in a crisis they'd called his father. Alex wondered when Ron had finally been informed about the refrigerator problem.

It was time to wrap up – Marty had confirmed that Ron had more than an hour when he was AWOL. "Thanks for your help, Marty. If you think of anything else," she said, "anything unusual that happened on Monday, please give me a call." She handed the young man her card. "Can you point the way to Mr. Delacruz's office?"

* * *

><p>They were still in the Winter Market parking lot, sitting in their car. Alex had joined her partner and Mr. Delacruz in time to see the video footage of Ron leaving the store at five-thirty on Monday.<p>

She finished a call to Captain Ross, and turned to her partner. "Ross said this will get us the search warrant," she said. "Ron left early and instructed Delacruz to call his cell at six – supposedly at home, hoping to establish an alibi. And we know he wasn't home then."

"The thing is," Bobby said, "Mr. Delacruz says it's not unusual for Ron – not the phone call, but leaving early."

"Marty said the same thing."

"Ron's not exactly dedicated to the family business."

Alex frowned and shook her head. "So where was he, and why did he lie to us about it? You think it's money problems?"

Bobby shifted in the passenger seat to face her. "What are the signs when a person starts to panic about his debt?"

They'd seen it often enough. "He tries to raise cash by selling off things without being noticed," she replied. "Cuts corners where it doesn't really matter..."

"Like not buying expensive coffee, or renting movies instead of going out," Bobby said.

"Yeah." She gazed at Bobby, grasping his point. She'd spent the previous evening looking at Ron's expenses. "Ron's not doing any of that. Just last week he charged four hundred dollars for a new patio set. And I saw a charge for a movie theater the weekend before."

Bobby nodded. "He's not worried about the money..."

"Although maybe he should be," Alex said.

"...so why go to all that trouble to steal cash from the safe?"

"On the other hand," she said, "the store's books show he's either skimming or incredibly sloppy. Frannie's had to clean up after him every month."

"That fits the profile of someone who feels stuck in a job he hates," Bobby replied. "It's a passive-aggressive response: avoiding responsibilities, shoddy work, cutting out early..."

"Yeah. But Ron is worried about something," she said. "He lied to us. If he caused those shutdowns by accident, he'd have told the security company, or he'd have stopped." She thought for a few moments. "If it wasn't about money, maybe Ron had some reason for trying to delay the opening?"

Before Bobby had a chance to reply, his phone rang. As he listened to the caller he looked intently at Alex. "Thanks... Who else knows about this? ...Okay, keep it that way for now. We're on our way," he said, and then snapped the phone shut. "That was Alonzo Matthews. Jeanne told him I'd asked about smart phone access, and he got his IT guy to look at the shutdown codes again."

"And?" Alex was pretty sure she knew what was coming.

"He says it's not the same full information as their tag, but he was able to identify two different sources for the shutdown commands."

"Two sources - phones?"

He nodded. "It's possible. Since the software's only partially enabled, they can't track back to a number."

"We can," Alex said. "We get the search warrant for Ron's phone. We send a command from his black-market security app." She ticked off the steps on her fingers. "Safety Shield compares the code, or whatever they call it... Bingo."

She pulled her seat belt across her lap, turned the key to start the engine, and put the car into gear.

"There were two sources," Bobby said, also buckling his seat belt. "Matthews said there was one for the first three shutdowns plus the last, and a different one for the fourth and fifth."

"That's the part you didn't want him to tell anyone else? That there's another person crashing the system?"

"Yeah. This second person thinks Ron's going to be blamed for all the shutdowns – we need to keep it that way."

She thought about it as she pulled out onto the busy street. A thought popped into mind.

"Hey, Bobby - how did Ron even know to try a smart phone app in the first place?" she asked.


	11. Chapter 11

**Safety Shield**

**Woodhaven, Queens, NY**

**Thursday, May 22**

* * *

><p>Alex leaned back in her chair as her partner and Safety Shield's IT guru, John Pappas, pored over the activity log for the Brooklyn Winter Market store. They were in the conference room at Safety Shield's office. Captain Ross had promised to fax over the search warrant as soon as it was signed.<p>

As always, she was impressed with Bobby's determination to understand the minutiae of technically difficult topics. John Pappas – the same man who'd been at their initial meeting - seemed pleased to answer Bobby's questions.

Alex allowed herself a moment to appreciate Bobby in a more personal way. He was writing in his binder, and the tip of his tongue poked out the side of his mouth as he concentrated. She'd ask him later if he knew he did that.

"Are you sure this..." Bobby asked, jabbing his finger at a page. "...this difference means two phones, or even a phone at all?"

"Not totally sure," John Pappas replied, "but it's my best guess." He ran his fingers though his hair. "This, right here, is why we don't want people using beta as though it's a final release."

Alex asked, "Could someone send smart phone commands to the other Winter Market?"

Both men looked up, mouths agape, and blinked at exactly the same moment. Alex managed not to laugh, though she had to grin.

"Other Winter Market?" John Pappas asked.

"You know, the one in Long Island City," she replied. "I mean, if Ron's trying out this black market app..."

"It's not black m-" Bobby said, and then paused. "Right. Why not experiment at both stores?"

"Exactly," Alex said, winking at her partner.

"He couldn't," John Pappas said, shaking his head. "Only a new installation like the Brooklyn store has the latest software, which includes the portal for smart phone access. Of course, that part of it should never have been rolled out..."

"Yeah, yeah," Alex said. "So you're saying that existing customers don't have that portal?"

"Right – they have the previous release. We do upgrades semiannually."

"That means," Bobby said, "the new Winter Market was your only customer where this could have happened – no one else has the software installed." Bobby pushed away from the table, rose and took a few paces at the white board. Clearly, an idea was percolating in his mind.

Pappas went back to staring at the pages scattered on the table. "Beta's so buggy... And he's using an unknown, off-the-shelf app... We don't have a way to follow this code backward..."

"Not yet, anyway," Alex said, checking the time. How long could it take the captain to get the warrant?

Bobby grabbed a dry marker pen and drew a long horizontal line. "Beta was released on May first," he said as he marked a hash on the line and labeled it.

"'Release' is way too official for what happened here," Pappas replied. "The team snuck it out into production."

Bobby looked over his shoulder at Pappas. "When did Winter Market's system go live?"

"It was the first weekend of the month," he replied. "Saturday night to Sunday."

"May third and fourth," Bobby said as he made another mark. He flipped open his leather binder and checked his notes. "On the seventh, Ron purchased an app online from Open App Mart." He added another mark on the time line. "And the first shutdown was on the morning of the eighth."

Alex pointed at the time line. "What happened between May fourth and seventh? Did Ron talk to somebody here?"

"Umm, yes," Pappas said, tapping his chin. "There were weekly meetings with them, starting in April. Mr. Winter senior, Ron, and John Lasalle. Wednesday mornings, right here."

"Before the shutdowns started?" Bobby asked.

"Mm-hmm," Pappas replied. "It's part of the setup routine – to keep customers in the loop and stay on top of any problems."

"There would have been a meeting..." Alex calculated swiftly. "...on May seventh."

Bobby added the meeting to his time line on the board. "And did you mention that phone access was part of the installation for the new store?"

Pappas crossed his arms. "I missed that meeting. But Alonzo might've said something about it. He likes to let customers know we're on the cutting-edge." He stood abruptly and headed for the door. "I'll find him right now."

Alex said, "We need a list of everyone who was at that meeting." After Pappas was gone, Alex arched her eyebrows at Bobby. "Somebody's losing their job over that mistake," she said.

The door opened, and Bobby's friend Jeanne appeared with a couple of sheets in hand. She held them out toward Bobby. "A fax came for you, Detective."

* * *

><p><strong>Lutheran Cemetery<strong>

**Queens, NY**

**Thursday, May 22**

* * *

><p>Robert Winter's burial plot, marked by a small open-sided tent, was a hundred feet off the cemetery's winding drive. A few chairs and floral arrangements were set up underneath the tent, and a green grave cloth covered the pile of dirt. Alex and Bobby found Ron's Lexus in the long line of cars parked along the narrow lane; they stood next to it, watching the graveside ceremony.<p>

Alex felt sorry for the family. It was a shock to lose someone suddenly - even more when there was violence involved. She was still a little shaken about her mother's health scare. What if it were her family standing around a grave? When she saw Frannie and Mrs. Winter cry and embrace each other, a powerful surge of sadness welled up in her chest.

She shuffled a little closer to Bobby, and let her shoulder rest against his side. Alex felt his hand press gently on her back.

"You okay?" he whispered.

Alex shrugged, and leaned a little more firmly into him. They stayed that way throughout the ceremony.

There were three cars in the Mayor's entourage – they departed first. The rest of the large crowd was slow to disperse.

Finally they saw Frannie, Ron and Mark escorting their mother to a limousine. Frannie's two children, Rick and a teenaged girl with long dark hair – she must be Mark's daughter – all climbed into the limo with Mrs. Winter.

Alex was glad that Mrs. Winter and the grandchildren were leaving. She didn't care that Ron would be embarrassed, but she didn't like the idea of causing more pain for his mother. She wished Frannie would get into in that limo, too.

As soon as the limo's door closed, Bobby took a step, but Alex touched his arm. He stopped immediately, and Alex was sure he understood. They stayed where they were until the limo was out of sight.

Mark blinked in surprise when he saw Alex approach; she was relieved when he simply stood aside and watched. It didn't hurt that Bobby stayed between her and Mark. Frannie had turned away and was talking to an older couple.

"Mr. Winter," Alex said quietly to Ron, "we need to talk to you. Now."

Ron blanched and swallowed hard. He whispered a few words to his wife and then followed the detectives as they walked off the road in the direction away from the crowd.

"We have a warrant for your cell phone and for your car's GPS," Alex said, holding up the folded paper.

Ron's hand went to his belt. "My, my phone?"

"And your GPS," Bobby said. He reached out, snatched the phone off Ron's belt clip, and started searching through the apps.

"Am I-" Ron swallowed again, and his eyes darted to his wife, who still stood where they'd left her. "Am I under arrest?"

"No," Alex said. She put the warrant into Ron's hand. "Not yet, but that's only because of your father's friendship with the Mayor."

"There it is," Bobby said, tilting the phone for Alex to see. One of the icons on the screen looked like a combination lock – it was labeled _All-Safe_. He cleared the display and dropped the phone into the manila envelope that Alex opened.

"We'll be expecting you at One Police Plaza this afternoon," she said, folding the envelope and tucking it under her arm.

"You probably should bring your lawyer," Bobby added. "Can you, uh-" He pointed back toward the road. Frannie, Mark and Sharon were staring at them. "Open your car?"

"C-car? You're taking my car?" Ron asked. Alex heard the jingle of keys as he fumbled in his pocket.

"Just your GPS," Bobby said. "It's in the warrant."

As they returned to their car, Alex said, "Can we wait a minute while I call my mom? I just want to check in with her." She was grateful she didn't need to explain further than that – Bobby would understand.

Bobby had been reaching for the door handle, but he stopped and turned toward her. "Sure. Do you need me to...?"

"No, stay - it's fine," she said, leaning against the car and tilting her head to her side, indicating that Bobby should join her. "She'll probably want to talk to you, too."

* * *

><p><strong>MCS, 1PP, NY<strong>

**Thursday, May 22**

* * *

><p>Alex pushed the Speaker button on the telephone. "Everybody still on the line?" she asked.<p>

"Yeah, still here," Bobby answered. He and a couple of uniformed officers were at the Brooklyn Winter Market store with John Lasalle.

"We're here, too," came John Pappas' voice. He and Alonzo Matthews were at Safety Shield's office, monitoring the system. Two uniformed officers were with them as well.

"Okay, before we go any further with this experiment," Captain Ross said, looking sternly at Alex as though he'd caught her running headlong into traffic, "how do we know what command to try?"

Alex shrugged. She wasn't even the one holding Ron Winter's iPhone – Zack, one of NYPD's IT experts, had it. He sat beside Ross in the interview room.

John Pappas answered, "Like I said, it doesn't really matter what command you use. We're trying to establish whether the app has been programmed with the store's security code. Any command will do – for starters, look for one that'll show the status or something like that."

"I hear you," Zack said. "Hang on." He touched the screen a few times.

Ross leaned close to watch. "It's loading..." he murmured.

"I've got the All-Safe welcome screen..." Zack said. "Here we go: there's one icon labeled _'Add New Location_' and one labeled '_BKLN STR_'."

"Brooklyn store," Ross said.

"What happens when you select it?" Pappas asked.

Ross scooted his chair closer until he was practically on top of Zack. "We're in!" the captain called out. Alex had to smile – if Bobby were here he he'd be the one invading Zack's personal space.

"I'm at a menu," Zack said, leaning away from Ross.

Alex called, "Did anything happen out there?"

Nothing had changed so far. Zack chose the _Doors and Windows_ option next, still with no result at the store.

Zack said, "Okay, I'm going to try '_Main Entrance'_. He looked at Ross, and at his nod he touched the screen. "Done."

Alex was across from Zack at the table, so she couldn't see what was happening on the iPhone's screen. She found herself staring at the speaker phone as she waited for someone to respond.

After a pause of a couple seconds she heard Bobby say, "There it goes! Look, up there!" There were several other exclamations; she wasn't sure who was speaking.

"What?" Ross called, pulling the telephone close to him. "What happened?"

"Nothing here – this is John Pappas. I don't see any change in status. What's going on at the store?"

"The cameras shut off! This is John Lasalle," he said breathlessly. "I saw the little red light on the camera go out after you said, 'Done'. I was looking directly at it!"

"What about the doors?" Alex asked. "And the safe?"

She heard voices at some distance from the phone calling back to report: the office safe and all the external doors had been unlocked.

"Mr. Lasalle?" Alex pulled the telephone away from the captain and set it in the middle of the table again. She asked, "Can you tell if this is exactly the same as the other shutdowns?"

"Wait, wait!" John Pappas called. "I refreshed my screen here, and now I see the shutdown. This is ridiculous. If the whole system goes off, I should be seeing all sorts of red flags – but there's nothing. Damn! I told you beta's flaky!"

Lasalle finally replied to Alex's question. "Detective Eames, this is John Lasalle. Yes – it's the same as before, as far as I can see. Cameras off, doors unlocked, safe unlocked."

Bobby said, "Check the panel on the wall."

"Okay," Lasalle replied. "Give me a minute..."

There was a pause as they waited for Lasalle to examine the panel. He said, "I had to work down through the menus before I saw that the cameras and the locks are off. It shows the correct status, but it didn't alert us."

Captain Ross asked, "John Pappas, does the code match with the earlier shutdowns?"

"Let me check," he replied. "Hang on..."

Alex asked, "Zack, what do you see on the iPhone?"

"It just opened a screen to enter information," Zack replied. "Look." He handed the phone to Alex. "From here you can't tell that anything happened."

Alex scanned the display. Now it made sense why Ron didn't seem to realize the first shutdown had occurred.

"I got nothing," a voice said on the phone.

"Who's that?" Captain Ross asked. "Who's got nothing?"

"Me, John Pappas. There's nothing in the activity log," he said. "Looking at this, I'd have no way of knowing that anything happened."

"Yeah, uh, that matches the pattern," Bobby said. "The activity log only registers the alarm, not the shutdown itself."

Pappas asked, "Can you guys try another option on the menu?"

Alex started to hand the phone back to Zack, but Ross intercepted it. He peered at the phone and said, "I'm going to try the '_Lock All_' command." He paused a moment, and when no one objected he touched the phone's screen.

There was a long moment of silence, and then the reports came back from the store and security office: there was no change in either place. Ross tried a few other commands, all with no result.

"So, the first attempted command causes the shutdown," Bobby said. "It probably doesn't matter which command."

"And anything sent after that won't change the status," John Pappas added. "I don't see any activity log entries, either."

"What sets off the alarm?" Alex asked.

"Captain," Bobby said, "log out of the app. Close it down."

"Okay," Ross said, "is everyone ready? Here it goes."

Alex didn't need to be told the result – she heard the alarm bell clanging at the store almost as soon as the captain's finger touched the phone's screen.

Ross was grim. He pressed the Mute button on the telephone set and said, "Eames, get Ron Winter in here. No more courtesy treatment."

"Yes, sir," she said, and stood up. She reached for her cell to call Bobby, but it rang as she flipped it open. The display showed her partner's name.

Alex strode out of the room as she lifted the phone to her ear. "Hey," she said, "I was just about to call you. The Captain wants Ron here now." She could still hear the store alarm in the background.

"Eames, I need you to check something," Bobby said. "Do you have Ron's phone?"

"No, wait a sec," she said, turning on her heel and going right back into the conference room where Ross was just hanging up the call. She held out her hand. "Hey Zack, I need to see the phone."

Both men looked at her questioningly, but she simply grabbed the phone from Zack and headed to her desk once again.

She sat down and said, "Got it. Do you want to run the app again?"

"No, open the call log," Bobby said. He sounded excited. "Did Zack track the cell tower path for the phone?"

"Not yet," Alex said. "He was going to do that now."

"I think I know what it'll show," Bobby said. "Ron left the Long Island City store at five-thirty Monday, but his GPS didn't show the car moving for about twenty minutes."

When they'd pulled the information from Ron's GPS they'd found no data for the critical period around Robert Winter's death. There was very little data at all – Ron seemed to be in the habit of turning off the GPS unit.

"Right," Alex said, "he shut it off right after he started moving, so we don't know where he was until seven," Alex said, trying to find the right icon for the call log. She had her own phone trapped between her cheek and shoulder. "I think I've got it..."

Captain Ross was watching intently from the interview room doorway; she waved him over to her desk.

Bobby said, "We know Beldsen left his store a little after five-thirty, and came back fifteen minutes later."

"...with Chinese take-out from across the street," Alex said. Her finger froze above the phone's screen. "You think he met Ron there."

She smiled. Even without eye contact, she and Bobby could read each other effortlessly.

"Check Ron's calls for Monday afternoon," he said. "The restaurant's walking distance from both stores."

Alex felt a rush of energy – this could be the piece of information that turned the whole case around.

She flicked her finger to scroll quickly down the call log. "He made a call at five-fifteen to... This number looks familiar." She opened her notebook and paged through it. There! "Bobby, he called Beldsen at his store!"

"Did he ever call Beldsen before that?"

"Umm... yes, I see a couple earlier calls to the same number." Alex said. "I doubt they were talking about the price of organic spinach."

Bobby said, "I'm on my way to Long Island City. Can you..." She heard the car engine start. "Can you come? If the Chinese restaurant has a security camera..."

"I bet I get there first," she said.

After she hung up she handed over the iPhone and filled in the captain on her conversation with Bobby. She was eager to get out and follow up this new possibility.

"Okay, find out what went on with Beldsen," Ross said. "Also, John Pappas just called back. He checked the code for the alarm we caused: it matches the first three and the last – they were all done by Ron Winter's phone. Call Winter and tell him his grace period is over."


	12. Chapter 12

**MCS, 1PP, NY**

**Thursday, May 22**

* * *

><p>Alex and Bobby stood in the hallway outside the interrogation rooms, waiting for Captain Ross and Assistant District Attorney Whitney to arrive. Inside one room she could see Ron Winter and his lawyer. Ron sat at the table, staring blankly ahead, while the lawyer paced around the room.<p>

She craned her neck to peek into the other room: Ben Beldsen and his lawyer, a woman, were engrossed in an animated conversation.

Beldsen hadn't seemed surprised when the detectives returned to his store earlier in the afternoon, brandishing the video cassette which showed him and Ron Winter talking for ten minutes at the Chinese restaurant. He'd refused to explain, even when they arrested him and put him in handcuffs.

"You want to do this together," Bobby asked, rifling through the papers in his leather binder, "or split up?" He grinned at Alex and tapped his injured forehead. The cut had scabbed over, and the area around it had darkened to shades of purple. "If Beldsen won't talk," he said, "I can keep touching this bruise - you know, even scratch it a little to make it bleed again..."

Alex chuckled. "Yeah, that could be fun." She jutted her chin toward the first room. "Ron's lawyer is telling him to keep his mouth shut, I guarantee. Let's do Beldsen first – that way, when we talk to Ron..."

Bobby nodded. "We can confront him with what he and Beldsen..." He paused, looking past Alex out into the squad room. "...uh, what they discussed at the Chinese restaurant."

Alex glanced over her shoulder. Captain Ross and ADA Whitney were walking in their direction. She and Bobby stood side by side as the two men joined them.

"So," Ross said, "they're both lawyered up?" He glanced into each of the interrogations rooms.

"Yes, sir," Alex replied.

"I understand why Winter's here," Whitney said, "but what about Beldsen? Do I have a reason to charge him?"

Ross asked, "Do you think Beldsen caused the other shutdowns?" He looked back and forth between his detectives.

Bobby shook his head. "He is involved, but not with the shutdowns."

"He lied to us about his association with Ron," Alex said.

"If it's not Beldsen," Ross asked, "then who?"

"At first we wondered if Ron used his son's iPhone for the fourth and fifth shutdowns," Alex said.

"...but Rick's phone doesn't have the security app," Bobby said.

"Wait a minute," Whitney said. "The search warrant didn't cover the son's phone. How did you..?"

"Rick showed it to me," Bobby said, shrugging. "I asked."

"His mother was right there with him," Alex added.

Whitney seemed to be winding up to scold them, but to Alex's relief Ross held up a hand to stop him. Ross said, "So, I assume you have a theory about those other shutdowns?"

"Yes, sir," Alex said, looking up at her partner, and then at the Captain. "We're going to talk to Mr. Beldsen first. If you and Mr. Whitney are ready..." She indicated the observation room.

Bobby held the door for Alex, and she strolled into the interrogation room. Once inside, Alex took the nearest chair, with her back to the mirror. She made a show of checking the contents of the folder she'd brought with her.

Bobby dropped his binder on the table on his way to the far corner of the room, but he stopped abruptly and came back to Alex's side. He bent to whisper, cupping a hand to her ear. "I think I'll make your mom's chicken recipe on Wednesday. You like?"

Alex had been browsing through the folder, but snapped her eyes onto Ben Beldsen as her partner spoke. This was one of their regular tricks, meant to put a suspect off balance. She'd learned to steel her expression; today she needed all her self control to keep a serious face. Bobby had never flirted with her in these situations.

She slowly turned to Bobby – his nose was only a couple inches away – and nodded solemnly.

He proceeded to the corner, crossed his arms and leaned back against the wall – that was his signal for Alex to take the first questions.

Alex took a moment to breathe deeply. As she often did at the start of an interrogation, she felt a surge of eagerness. She didn't take that feeling for granted these days. She appreciated the gift of working in harmony with her partner to draw information out of their suspect. His flirtation added an extra element of excitement. With a final glance at Bobby, she began.

"Mr. Beldsen," she said, "are you ready to tell us why, less than an hour before Robert Winter was murdered, you met with Ron Winter at the Lucky Star restaurant, and why you failed to mention this meeting to us when we first spoke to you?"

She selected some full-page photographs and slid them across the table. They were frames from the restaurant video, and showed the two men deep in conversation.

"I didn't have anything to do with that murder!" Beldsen said.

He'd lost his swagger. He coughed and fidgeted with his collar. Alex guessed the lawyer had advised him to come clean. She could tell he was watching Bobby in the mirror – and she noted with amusement that Bobby had turned so that Beldsen would get the best view of his head wound.

Alex wasn't going to let Beldsen stall. She slapped her palms on the table and leaned forward, forcing him to face her squarely. "This is your one chance to talk. If you have nothing to say-"

"I'll tell you!" Beldsen said. His face was growing red, so she knew he was upset – thus more likely to speak the truth.

"Fine," she replied. She leaned back in her chair and held out her hands, inviting Beldsen to proceed.

"Okay, so I told you I saw Ron at the organics promotion last year," Beldsen said. "That was when he mentioned the Brooklyn property."

"What else did he mention?" Bobby asked. His voice was quiet, but Beldsen tensed up, twisting to look over his shoulder at him.

"He, uh, he'd been drinking," Beldsen said.

"We know," Alex said. She lightly rapped the table to bring Beldsen back around to face her. "He told you he didn't want the second store?"

"Not in so many words, but yeah, that was my impression," Beldsen said, loosening his tie, and once again looking in the mirror at Bobby, who chose that moment to rub a finger over his cut. Beldsen cleared his throat and said, "At the time I took it to mean he wished I'd get in on that property first – the easy way out for him, you know? That way he wouldn't have to tell his father anything."

"But you didn't get it first," Alex said.

Beldsen shook his head. "I shouldn't have been surprised. By that time it was practically a done deal with his father. As usual, Ronnie put off doing anything until it was too late."

Alex glanced over at her partner: he was nodding. His theory of Ron the Passive-Aggressive was being validated.

"How long was it until you suggested that he sell you his share in Winter Market?" Bobby asked.

Beldsen's eyes opened wide. "How did-?" He sighed loudly and pressed his fingers on the sides of his head, running them back into his hair.

The lawyer touched Beldsen's arm, and leaned over to whisper in his ear. He didn't look at her, but he nodded in acknowledgment.

"Yes. I did offer to buy him out," Beldsen said, "but that was later, after the law suit. He followed me into that Chinese restaurant one day, and tried to make it look like a coincidence."

"So you offered, and Ron agreed, just like that?" Alex asked.

"No. I offered, but it took him a while to make up his mind," Beldsen said. "And it took him even longer to build up the nerve to talk to his father."

"Was he going to do that on Monday after you two met?" Bobby asked.

"He said he was."

"Why?" Bobby emerged from the dimly lit corner. He sat on the edge of the table, slid close to Beldsen and leaned down. "Did you give him an ultimatum?"

Beldsen snorted. "I gave him an ultimatum practically every time we talked – but I wasn't holding my breath. I mean, I told you I've started looking at other properties for sale, because I can't wait around for Ronnie to grow a spine."

Alex leaned back again and said, "Why didn't you tell us this the other day?"

"I know it looks bad for Ronnie," Beldsen said, "but I don't believe he did it." He sat up straight and faced Alex with confidence. "He wasn't angry at his father. He just wanted an easy way out."

"Did you talk with him about the security system problems at his new store?" Bobby asked.

"No, I didn't know anything about that until I saw in the news."

"One more thing," Bobby said. "Could you, uh, show us your cell phone?"

Beldsen frowned, but reached into his pocket and pulled out a flip-phone – not an iPhone.

"Does it have any special features?" Bobby asked.

"Umm, there are a couple games my son likes to play," Beldsen replied. "It has an alarm clock – that's about it."

The lawyer spoke up. "My client has been cooperative, Detectives. He's done nothing wrong here. Are we done?"

Bobby twisted to look at Alex for a long moment. His chin dipped slightly, and she understood. That tiny nod was their private conversation, and she turned back to Beldsen.

"Excuse us," she said, closing the folder.

* * *

><p>Captain Ross and ADA Whitney were watching Ron Winter and his lawyer through the two-way mirror as Alex and Bobby entered the observation room.<p>

"So," Ross said, "we're looking at... involuntary manslaughter? Ron Winter stole the money from the safe and then accidentally killed his father?"

"Umm..." Alex said, turning toward her partner.

"The thing is," Bobby said, "someone else is involved – those other shutdowns weren't caused by Ron."

"Who?" Whitney rested his fists on his hips. "Who is this mystery person?" he asked.

Bobby pointed at the mirror. "Ron knows." He turned to look at Alex. "Eames figured it out."

Alex briefly met his glance, thanking him silently for giving her credit for the idea – but she believed that partners share both bad and good.

She shook her head slightly as she said, "The question occurred to us: how did Ron even know to try a smart phone app? We know that Alonzo Matthews at Safety Shield mentioned to the Winters that the beta software existed. However, at the same meeting he also emphasized that the app wouldn't be available until July or later."

"As far as Ron knew – officially," Bobby said, "it wasn't possible."

"But unofficially...?" Ross said, letting a small smile show. He crossed his arms on his chest.

"Exactly," Alex said. "Someone from Safety Shield gave him a hint about off-the-shelf apps, and watched him crash the system three times."

"And then did it twice himself," Bobby added.

"But your test proved that Ron Winter's phone caused the final shutdown," Whitney said. "It doesn't matter if someone else caused an earlier one."

"No, see," said Alex, "We're only sure that Ron's phone set off the alarm on the night of the murder."

Whitney frowned. "Isn't that what I just said?"

Bobby shook his head. "In the test we did this afternoon, there's no trace at all of the initial command that turns off the systems." He opened the door and stepped out into the hallway. "Ready, Eames?"

Inside the interrogation room, Bobby held the chair for Alex, but he'd barely sat down next to her when he popped right back up.

"Just a minute. I need..." he said, talking over his shoulder as he yanked the door open and disappeared.

Alex calmly looked back and forth between Ron and his lawyer. Ron seemed numb, but the lawyer frowned. He said, "Really, Detective, if you're going to-"

The door swung open in a rush as Bobby returned, holding an evidence box. He dropped back into the chair beside Alex and set the box on the floor beside him.

Bobby took his time – he poked around in the box for a while, then straightened papers in his binder. Alex waited for him to begin – it was his turn to steer the interrogation, and she was enjoying the ride so far.

The lawyer tried his complaint again. "My client has been-" He stopped mid-sentence as Bobby raised a finger – practically in the man's face - while perusing his notes.

"Your client hasn't been truthful with us," Bobby said, still not looking at either man. He laid his pen on top of his binder, stretched his neck to the left and right, and finally looked straight at Ron.

"So Ron," he said, "it's not looking good for you. Do you want to tell us what you did, or should we tell you?"

Ron's eyes flicked to the side, looking to his lawyer for direction.

"Because we have a lot to tell you," Bobby continued. He seemed full of energy – Alex guessed he was on the same adrenaline high that she was feeling. He paused for about two seconds, and then said, "No? You sure? Okay then, I'll go first."

Bobby reached into the box and drew out a street map of Queens and Brooklyn. There were red pen marks scattered through the boroughs. He laid it on the table so it was right side up for Ron.

"It was a good idea," Bobby said, "turning off the GPS in your car. You didn't want us tracking you." He waved his pen. "But you forgot that your cell phone sends out signals to connect to the nearest cell tower. That's as good as a GPS. See these dots? These are all the cell towers your phone connected to on Monday after five-thirty." Bobby's pen came down on a red dot. "This one here is close to your Queens store."

"And to Ben Beldsen's store," Alex added.

"And," Bobby said, "to the Lucky Star restaurant. You were there until five forty-five on Monday."

Alex saw the muscles in Ron's jaw clench.

The lawyer snorted. "You're grasping at straws, Detectives. Mr. Winter could have been anywhere within a mile of that tower. You have no way of knowing..." Once again he was interrupted by Bobby's raised finger. He huffed in annoyance.

"Oh," Bobby said, "we have a way." With a flourish he pulled a VCR cassette out of the evidence box. He pointed to the corner of the room, where a wheeled cart with a TV and VCR sat. He rose, pushed the tape into the player and picked up the remote control.

Bobby dragged his chair around the table so that he was beside Ron. "Let's watch," Bobby said. On the screen they saw a view of the Chinese restaurant's interior. Two men sat across from each other at a tiny booth. The one facing the camera was easy to recognize: Ron.

"The tape is from Monday," Alex said. "Ben Beldsen already told us he's the other man at the table. He said you talked about selling him your share of Winter Market."

Alex watched Ron's reaction: his breathing rate increased and his eyes were riveted to the TV screen.

Bobby paused the tape after a couple minutes. He scooted his chair closer to Ron, and reached for his pen and the map. "You told us you were home," Bobby said, "watching the news on TV - but look..." His pen traced a line through a series of red dots. "After you left the restaurant you went to Brooklyn – to Park Slope, in fact. See this tower here?" Bobby looked up to make sure Ron was watching. "This one is close to your new store."

"Shall we go on?" Alex asked. "You didn't get home to Middle Village until just before seven."

Bobby added, "You instructed Mr. Delacruz to call you, and you told him you were at home, but you were..." He traced a line on the map. "...somewhere on the BQE. That's not a very good way to establish an alibi, Ronnie."

"And then there's the state of your finances," Alex said. "Seventy-five hundred cash from the new store's safe would come in very handy, what with all the patio furniture you've been buying lately."

"What? No!" Ron said. His face was pale, and Alex saw a sheen of sweat forming on his forehead.

"We haven't even gotten to the good part," Bobby said.

He jumped up to retrieve the box, and dangled an evidence bag containing Ron's iPhone. "All those mysterious, untraceable shutdowns, screwing up security at the new store..."

"But guess what?" Alex said, smiling at Ron. "We found a way to trace them after all – to your phone."

The lawyer pressed Ron's arm and whispered into his ear. Alex exchanged a quick glance with Bobby – he was calm on the outside, but she could tell he was running full speed internally.

Alex continued, "Like my partner said, it's not looking good for you. If a jury is asked to connect these dots, they're going to say you shut down the security system so you could take the cash, and killed your father when he discovered you there."

"No!"

"You thought your father had gone home," Bobby said. He crossed his arms and leaned against the mirror. "You called him from the road, and he said he was about to leave. You thought the coast was clear, but... surprise!"

"You shouldn't have been surprised, Ronnie." Alex added. "He usually worked late, unlike you."

Bobby said, "When he realized what you'd done... Well, he must have been furious. His own son, his business partner, causing havoc with the new store and then stealing..."

"No, nothing like that," Ron said. He looked like he might faint.

"He shoved you, didn't he," Bobby continued. "And you lost your temper and shoved him back. Then you just stood there, watching him bleed out and die."

"I didn't, I swear!" Ron said. "I never hurt my father!"

"No?" Bobby placed both hands on the table and leaned close to Ron. "Then," he said, "why don't you tell us what did happen when you got to the store?"

Ron wiped a hand across his face. The lawyer tried to whisper again, but Ron pushed him away. "Yes, I was there – but I didn't kill my father!"


	13. Chapter 13

**MCS, 1PP, NY**

**Thursday, May 22**

* * *

><p>Ron Winter seemed to relax slightly once he'd agreed to tell the truth. Alex shared a quick glance with her partner – they'd reached a point where things could start moving very quickly. If, as they expected, Ron revealed that someone inside Safety Shield was involved, they'd need to find that person in a hurry - before he realized he was in trouble.<p>

"I, I," Ron said, and sighed heavily. "I don't even know where to start."

Bobby now spoke more soothingly. He sat down next to Ron. "Let's start with Monday, when you left work."

"Okay, yeah, I met with Ben Beldsen. I've been talking to him lately."

"You want out of the grocery business?" Alex asked.

"Do I want out? No," Ron replied. "Well, maybe - I haven't really decided. But Ben keeps holding that stupid law suit over my head – as though it was my fault!"

"So you talked to Ben," Bobby said, shrugging. "You thought about his offer. No harm in that."

"Of course not," Ron said.

"And after your meeting with him on Monday, you decided to tell your father what you were considering," Bobby said.

"Yes, right," Ron said. "It was only an idea – nothing final."

"Instead of going home," Bobby said, "you headed to Brooklyn. You called your father – did you tell him about Beldsen?"

"No, only that I was coming."

"And the call from Delacruz?" Alex said. "Why did you ask him to do that?"

Ron shook his head. "I had this suspicion he knew what was going on with me and Beldsen, so..."

"It was to convince him that everything was normal?" Bobby asked.

"Yeah, something like that."

"What happened when you got to the store?" Alex asked. She leaned forward in anticipation, and noticed that Bobby did the exact same thing. "What entrance did you use?"

"The loading dock, in back. Oh, God... he was – he was lying there... There was blood all over!"

"You went over to him?" Bobby asked. "To see if he was alive?"

Ron covered his face. "Yes, but he... He was gone. It was so awful!"

"Why didn't you call 911 right away?" Alex asked.

Ron wiped at his eyes. "I don't know why I thought of it, but I looked up at the security camera: it was off – the light was off. I knew it was another security failure, and... I panicked."

"Why?" Bobby asked. He laid a hand on Ron's shoulder. "Did you use the All-Safe app before you got there?"

Ron shook his head.

"Then you didn't cause it," Bobby said.

"No, I did! I downloaded that app a couple weeks ago..."

"We know," Alex said. "You were shutting down the whole security system."

"I stopped, I swear I did!" Ron said. He looked devastated. "But it kept happening - somehow I was still causing it. I have no idea how, but because of that, someone got in and... and killed my father."

"Who?" Alex asked.

"I don't know," Ron replied. "I didn't see anyone."

Bobby slowly rose and wandered to the corner behind Ron. He rubbed his chin with finger and thumb. "You've kept this all to yourself. You couldn't tell anyone about it."

Ron shook his head, and then covered his face again. The lawyer handed him a tissue.

Bobby continued, "That's a heavy load of guilt to carry around. I think we can help to lighten that load – if you're willing to tell us the complete truth now."

Ron wiped his eyes and looked at Alex. "What will happen to me?" he asked.

"That depends on what you've done," Alex replied. "Let's get back to Monday. Did you touch anything in the store?"

"No. Well, I grabbed a couple of wipes for my hands, and for where I touched the, the blood, but that's it – nothing else."

"Did you go into the office?" Bobby asked. "Anywhere else in the store?"

"No, I went right out - by the back door."

"Was the parking lot empty?" Bobby asked.

"Except for my car, yes."

Alex said, "You set off the alarm around six-thirty. I guess you did it on purpose that time?"

"Yes. I, I drove a couple blocks away," he replied, running a finger inside his shirt collar. "I knew if the alarm went off someone would come to the store."

Bobby leaned back into the corner and crossed his arms over his chest. He met Alex's eye for a moment and went back to watching Ron in the mirror.

Alex said, "There's another thing: we're curious to know how you figured out that a smart phone app would even work."

"Well," Bobby said with a quick chuckle, "not exactly work. I mean..." He came out of the corner and paced a few steps behind Alex's chair. "You managed to throw a monkey wrench into the store's security system."

"...and decimate Safety Shield's reputation," Alex added.

"So, Ron," Bobby said, leaning his elbows on the table beside Alex and sliding forward until he was nearly nose-to-nose with Ron. "Tell us how that app ended up on your iPhone. Who told you to try it?"

"Told me to try it?" Ron backed off from Bobby, and looked over at Alex in confusion. "Nobody. I was at a meeting at Safety Shield," he said with a shrug, "and Alonzo Matthews said they were going to add smart phone access."

Alex shook her head. "But Matthews told you it wasn't available yet. Was there someone else?" She opened the folder she'd brought in – it contained a list of the Safety Shield employees who'd attended that May seventh meeting.

"Oh, um... Let me think." Ron blinked. "I did talk to Jim Ackerman after the meeting."

Alex instantly scanned the list: James Ackerman was listed as a security guard. No red flags had been raised when they'd interviewed him. Under the table Alex reached with her foot to nudge Bobby; he didn't look at her, but nodded in acknowledgement. She was sure that behind the mirror Captain Ross was already on the phone with Safety Shield.

Bobby circled the table to sit next to Ron again. He scooted his chair closer. "Do you remember what he said?"

Ron was quickly realizing that his friend Jim might be involved in the shutdown of the store's systems – and with the murder. He sat up straight and took a deep breath. "He's got an iPhone, too, and he collects apps. We've been, you know, trading ideas – like the sports fantasy app Ricky loves."

Alex made a rolling motion with her finger, urging Ron to speed up.

"Yeah, okay," Ron said. "So after the meeting, I told Jim I wished they'd roll out their app sooner rather than later. He said I could probably find one online that would work. We looked at the Apple Store right away, but they didn't have anything."

"You found it that night at Open App Mart," Bobby said. "Did you tell Jim?"

"No – I don't see him often, and then it turned out so badly," Ron said.

"Would he know about Open App Mart?" Alex asked.

"Oh, sure," Ron said. "He's the one who pointed me to that site in the first place."

* * *

><p><strong>Apartment of Jim Ackerman<strong>

**Brooklyn, NY**

**Thursday, May 22**

* * *

><p>Alex pressed the Talk button on her walkie-talkie. "Everyone in place?"<p>

The officers at the rear exit of the four-floor walk-up responded in the affirmative. "Okay," she said quietly, "here we go!"

She, Bobby and two other uniforms filed out of the stairwell and approached the door labeled 2B – Jim Ackerman's apartment. Bobby cautiously tested the doorknob – it was locked. He looked at Alex; she jutted her chin toward the door, giving him the go-ahead.

Bobby pounded heavily on the door and shouted, "Police! Open up!"

They listened carefully – someone was moving inside. Bobby moved directly in front of the peep-hole and held up his shield. "Open the door! NYPD!"

They all took a step back as they heard locks turning. The door was opened by an older woman – she looked thoroughly frightened. Alex listened carefully for any sounds inside the apartment. She heard the clatter of silverware on a hard floor – at least one other person was in there.

Alex showed her shield. "I'm Detective Eames, and this is Detective Goren. Is this the home of James Ackerman?"

The woman nodded, wide-eyed. "He's my son-in-law."

"Is he here?" Alex asked.

"Yes, but he's asleep – he has the midnight shift this week." She opened the door a little more.

"When did he get home?" Bobby asked. "May we come in?" He deftly slid past the woman into the apartment.

"He – um, a little before nine o'clock," she said, turning to stare after Bobby. She still looked stunned. "He's asleep."

"Which is his room?" Bobby glanced to his right, and then turned left and disappeared down the hallway.

Alex jabbed her finger after her partner, and one of the officers followed him. The other stayed in the doorway. "Is anyone else here?" Alex asked the mother-in-law.

To her credit, the woman recovered pretty quickly from the shock of the sudden invasion of her home, although her hand trembled as she pointed to her left into the kitchen. "It's the neighbor's little girl. I'm babysitting while her mother's shopping. Why do you want Jim?"

Alex heard a thump from the bedroom, and then Bobby yelled, "Police!"

She touched the woman's arm. "I need you to go into the kitchen while my partner talks to-"

She was interrupted by a loud thud – it sounded like a heavy piece of furniture falling over – followed by muffled shouts.

"What are they doing?" the mother-in-law cried, taking a step toward the hallway.

"You can't go in there." Alex blocked her way, and pointed to the kitchen, where she now heard the child crying. "Please, take care of the baby."

Alex drew her gun as she hurried toward the bedroom and cautiously peered inside.

Bobby and the officer were struggling with a man at the open window. It looked like the man – barefoot and wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt - was desperately trying to get out to the fire escape. A dresser lay face down nearby, and the shards of what looked like a ceramic vase were scattered beside the doorway.

Just as Alex approached, the men all fell back onto the floor together in a tangle. The man thrashed about, but instantly stilled when he looked up into the barrel of Alex's gun.

"Jim Ackerman," she said, "you've just won a trip to Major Case."

"I want a lawyer! I haven't done anything!"

Alex kept her eyes and gun focused on Ackerman until the officer snapped on the handcuffs.

Suddenly she noticed drops of blood on the floor and on Ackerman's t-shirt. Who was bleeding? She groaned when she saw Bobby pressing his palm against his head – exactly in the spot where he'd been hit by Ben Beldsen's flying coffee mug. Her temper flared.

Bobby looked angry as well, but Alex breathed easier as she caught his gaze and realized that he was okay other than the reopening of his wound.

She glared at Ackerman as he was roughly hauled to his feet. "You're under arrest for assaulting a police officer," she added. She nodded to the uniformed officer. "Read him his rights."

* * *

><p><strong>MCS, 1PP, NY<strong>

**Thursday, May 22**

* * *

><p>"Everyone keeps telling you to duck, Bobby," Alex said, arching her eyebrows at her partner as they sat at their desks. "You really should consider it." The scab on his forehead was fresh once again, and the bruised area sported a new rainbow of colors.<p>

Bobby grinned and went back to studying the stack of information on Ackerman they'd collected.

Ackerman had been awakened by the knock at the door, and had tried to climb out the bedroom window. Unfortunately for him it didn't open easily; that delay was enough for Bobby to prevent his escape. Their struggle had been short and wild.

Bobby had told her privately that he wasn't sure who or what had hit his head – he only realized he was bleeding after Alex joined them. Alex had pointed out that it was Ackerman's fault, no matter who actually collided with Bobby's head.

"My mom's going to yell at me for letting you get hurt again," she added. "Lucky for you I still had the bottle of liquid bandage."

While Ackerman sat in the holding cell, waiting for his lawyer to arrive, the detectives had pulled his work history and financial records. The NYPD IT guys were examining Ackerman's iPhone and home computer.

"Eames, look at this," Bobby said quietly. Alex got up and came around to his side as he continued. "Ackerman's been at Safety Shield three years, and he's been passed over twice for promotion: January last year, and again this January."

"Does it say why?" Alex rested a hand on his back as she leaned closer to read.

"It–" Bobby stopped and looked up at her, eyes wide. He looked surprised – not displeased, but definitely off-balance.

"What?" Alex thumped his shoulder and gave him a stern look. Was he shocked that she would touch him – even so non-intimately - in the squad room? If he wanted this relationship to move forward, then he'd better get used to it.

"Umm..." Bobby pointed at the sheet, quickly regaining his line of thought. "Here are the areas his supervisor suggested he needs to work on: 'exhibiting highest ethical standards, winning trust of the client, showing expert knowledge of security systems.'"

Bobby held up the page for her, using the movement to bring his shoulder into firmer contact with her arm. Alex smiled - he'd gotten the message.

"Yeah, well, it looks like Jim was working hard on the expert knowledge part," Alex said. "I checked his credit cards: not only did he purchase All-Safe a few days after Ronnie's experiments; five months ago he bought an app called Cam-Link."

"That'd be just after he missed the promotion," Bobby added. "What does the app do?

"I looked it up: it claims to let you tap into any live-feed web cam. I can't wait to see what Zack finds." She gave Bobby a final pat on the shoulder and went back to her side of the desk.

Bobby said, "His employment history seems... sketchy. His CV on record at Safety Shield says he was at his previous job two years; three years at the job before that. None of his jobs lasted more than four years."

Alex sat down, rested her elbows on the desk and propped her chin on her fists. "Did he quit or was he fired all those times?"

"Goren, Eames." Captain Ross came out of his office toward their desks, and they both turned to look at him.

"Ackerman's lawyer should be here soon," Ross said. He took a long look at Bobby's latest injury. "Detective, I may have to start sending you out in a bicycle helmet or a hard hat. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine."

Ross looked skeptical, but he only asked, "What have you got on Ackerman?"

As Alex told the captain what they knew so far, Bobby continued shuffling through his papers. He held one sheet out for them to see.

"Ackerman and his wife have a joint account at New City Credit Union," Bobby said. "They barely keep a hundred in it from month to month." He handed the page to Ross and picked up another. "But last year they opened a new account at a different bank. The deposits have all been cash, small amounts less than two hundred dollars – until he deposited seventy-seven hundred on Tuesday this week."

"There's no sign he has a second job," Alex added.

"Seventy-five hundred from Winter Market's safe, plus the cash from Robert Winter's wallet," Ross said. "You have to wonder if he stole the rest from other Safety Shield customers."

"Maybe that's what he's been using that web cam app for," Bobby said.

"Any withdrawals?" Ross asked.

"None," Bobby replied. "He's got seventeen thousand in there."

Alex asked, "Whose name is on the new account?" She walked around the desks and tugged the paper from Bobby's hand. "Hmm," she said. "The wife is the primary owner. Want to bet she doesn't know about this?"

"I'd say it looks incriminating," Ross said. He took a step toward his office. "What about his phone and laptop?"

"Zack's still working on them," Alex replied, "but he told us the iPhone definitely had the All-Safe app; it was deleted on Monday night – deleted, but not gone."

"Okay," Ross said. "Take Mr. Ackerman into the interrogation room. Let me know when his lawyer gets here."

"Um," Bobby said, reaching for his phone. "Let him sit in holding a little longer. I want to call Safety Shield first. And... we need to go back further into Ackerman's history."


	14. Chapter 14

**MCS, 1PP, NY**

**Thursday, May 22**

* * *

><p>"It looks like you have enough for an easy conviction," ADA Whitney said. He and Captain Ross were standing beside the detectives' desks in the squad room. "Why not save yourselves the trouble of an interrogation - Ackerman's lawyer isn't going to let him talk to you."<p>

Ross exchanged glances with both his detectives. "Don't be too sure about that," he said. "Come on, Counselor, let's get into the observation room." Ross led the ADA away.

They'd seen Ackerman's lawyer ushered through the squad room well over an hour ago, but neither Alex nor Bobby had done more than briefly glance up from their research.

Now, with their plan in place, they were ready to begin the interrogation. Bobby held a large stack of papers under his arm as he and Alex approached the interrogation rooms.

"You want me to take some of that?" Alex asked. She carried one thin folder.

"No, thanks, I'm going to, um..." Bobby gestured with his free hand.

"Ah, I see," she said, smiling at him. "Never a dull moment." Her partner was planning a show to put Ackerman off his guard.

He winked at her as he reached for the door handle, and then his face relaxed into a bored expression. In a loud voice he said, "..but when I got to the repair shop they'd already replaced the whole-" Bobby's head turned sharply, and he stopped short as he looked into the room at Ackerman and his lawyer.

Alex tried to swerve, but she ran smack into Bobby.

He'd swiftly pivoted so that she collided with his arm that was supporting the papers. He tilted into the room, and just barely got to the table before the stack slipped from his grasp. It all took only a second or two, and even though Alex knew it was coming, it still surprised her.

She was glad the two men seated at the table focused their attention on the mess that was spilling into their laps, because she couldn't hold back a short laugh at Bobby's perfect performance. She quickly peeked toward the mirror, hoping the captain would recognize the tactic.

By the time she turned back toward the others she was grimacing in annoyance at her clumsy partner. She picked her way around him to the chair at the far end of the table.

As Bobby shoveled the papers back toward himself, he said, "Sorry about that- I was surprised to see you here so early."

"Early!" the lawyer shouted. "Are you serious? I've been sitting here almost two hours, waiting for you!"

Bobby stared at him open-mouthed, then turned to Alex, and back to the lawyer. "Really? We understood you wouldn't get her until..." He checked his watch.

"Never mind," the lawyer said, angrily slapping the loose papers away. "Just get on with this... this charade."

Alex smirked. They were going to try and brazen it out, were they? That was fine with her – it would be all the more satisfying when she and Bobby called their bluff. "Oh," she said, "you mean the charade where your client tried to bash in my partner's skull?"

All eyes focused on Bobby's forehead. He used the moment to wince as he traced his finger over his injury.

"That," Ackerman said, shaking his head, "that wasn't my fault."

"It's kind of hard to make that claim," Alex said, glaring at him, "when you resist arrest so... energetically."

The lawyer clamped a hand on Ackerman's arm to prevent a reply. He glared right back at Alex. "If all you have is Resisting Arrest, make your charge and let's get this over with."

"There's more than that," said Bobby, still sorting and straightening the papers, "We, um..." He vaguely scanned a few pages, eliciting a huff of impatience from the lawyer. "Here!" he said, grinning mildly and holding up one sheet. He looked at it again and set it down. "Well, it's here somewhere..."

In her folder, Alex had the evidence against Ackerman that would wipe the condescending expression off the lawyer's face, but she didn't want to spoil Bobby's fun. She leaned back and crossed her arms.

"We were interested to learn," Bobby said, "that you and your wife have been living with her mother for about a year."

"So?" Ackerman said. He'd been sullen before; he now turned positively hostile. This was obviously a sore spot.

Alex poked again. "What's wrong? You don't like your mother-in-law?"

Ackerman glanced away and squinted angrily at his reflection in the mirror.

"You used to own your own home in Elmhurst," Bobby said. "Two bedrooms, nice neighborhood. What happened, Jim? How'd you end up in your mother-in-law's spare room?"

Ackerman took a breath to reply, but the lawyer cut him off. "Don't! You don't have to say a word. They're fishing."

"No," Bobby said, keeping his tone soft, "it's not fishing. We know he used to be in better financial condition - a lot better."

Alex joined in. "Now, if you were spending your money on drugs... But Safety Shield does regular testing, and you've been clean all along."

Ackerman's face darkened, and the muscles in his jaw flexed. He spoke through clenched teeth. "I never used drugs!"

"I believe you," Bobby said. "But you know what we did find? You took out a second mortgage on your home to buy a restaurant." He laughed. "Really? A restaurant?"

"Last time I looked, it's not a crime to do that," Ackerman said, ignoring the tap on his arm from his lawyer.

"True," Bobby said, "but it had to make your blood boil when your money went down the drain, didn't it? You lost the restaurant and your house within a year." Bobby raised both hands, palms up. "What made you think you could run a restaurant, Jim? Did you think that doing security rounds at a restaurant was enough experience to open your own?"

Ackerman crossed his arms and glared over Bobby's head. He was clearly furious, but Alex knew that within a few minutes his anger would turn to panic. They could use the turnabout to get the truth about Robert Winter's murder.

"Detective," the lawyer said, "this is a waste of time. My client doesn't have to talk to you about his investments or business endeavors."

Bobby ignored the lawyer; he leaned across the table to make eye contact with Ackerman. "Or was it your cousin who screwed up? Richard Ackerman was listed as co-owner with you." Bobby shuffled the mound of paper on the table and magically pulled out the one page he was seeking. "You mortgaged your house to buy the business, but Richard only put in twelve thousand. He was supposed to run it - was that the deal, Jim? You provide the money, and he provides the work? But it only took him nine months to lose everything. Ouch, that had to hurt!"

Ackerman was sitting like a statue. He wouldn't look at either of them.

It was time for Alex to pile on. "Poor Jim. All you were left with was your measly income from Safety Shield; you couldn't get a raise," she said, ticking off each point on her fingers. "You messed up the promotion twice; the restaurant tanked; you lost your house; you had to move in with your wife's mother."

"So there you were," Bobby said, "pushing fifty years old; no house, no restaurant, no savings, and – well, frankly – not much of a job."

"And then it occurred to you," Alex said. "As a security guard, you had a lot of money right there in front of you."

That got a reaction out of Ackerman: he blinked and swallowed hard. His gaze dropped from some point on the ceiling to his hands, clenched on the table top.

Alex continued, "If you were careful about it, the customers might not realize you'd taken anything. If they noticed at all, they might chalk it up to bookkeeping errors."

The lawyer interjected a few words of denial, but Bobby kept his focus fully on Ackerman. "Errors: that's what we thought when we looked at Winter Market's books. We thought Ron Winter was careless, or even skimming from the registers himself."

"Ron Winter had everything handed to him!" Ackerman said. "He's, he's not...

"Not much of a businessman?" Bobby asked. "Maybe – but he respected his father too much to steal from him. He's not a thief."

"Now you, on the other hand..." Alex slowly opened her folder. "We looked at their books and your new credit union account side by side. Guess what?" she said. "The dates and amounts match exactly: Winter Market's loss was your gain."

Ackerman shook his head. "No, you've got it wrong. That money's from odd jobs I do for neighbors and friends; my wife walks dogs and babysits and... and stuff like that."

Neither detective reacted, but Alex knew they'd just been handed an important bit of information – and it didn't even matter if it was true.

"Hmm, I don't think so," Bobby said. "We asked Safety Shield about other clients you've been assigned to." He stood and strolled around behind Ackerman. He leaned down to speak into his ear. "By the end of the day we'll have the record of their cash losses, too."

"Care to guess what we'll find there?" Alex asked. "That web cam app came in pretty handy, didn't it?"

"It's not... I never..." Ackerman still looked angry, but panic was creeping up on him. He shifted in his seat to gain some space, but Bobby moved with him.

"The funny thing is," Bobby said, hovering about an inch from Ackerman's face, "if you'd been content with those smaller amounts, you might have gotten away with it indefinitely. Why'd you get impatient all of a sudden?"

"Oh, I know," Alex said, raising her hand. "It's because of Ron Winter and his iPhone. You got a look at the security logs, and you figured out he was causing the shutdowns with his six-dollar app."

Bobby nodded, and finally moved away from Ackerman. He backed up until he was at the wall, using the mirror to keep eye contact. "Did you say something to Ron to scare him?" Bobby asked. "Hmm? Did you drop a hint to make him think he'd be in trouble if he admitted he'd been experimenting? That way, you could try it out yourself."

"No, no – I didn't know..."

"Our IT guys found the same app as Ron's on your iPhone," Bobby said. "Now that we know what to look for, it's a simple test to prove you caused those shutdowns at the store."

"You did your own test: you crashed the system a couple times," Alex added, "and when you saw no one had a clue what was going on, you made your plan to clean out the safe at the new Winter Market just before the grand opening, when you had the best chance of the store being empty."

"But Robert Winter caught you there," Bobby said, "and he died for it."

"No, no!" Ackerman said, shaking his head and looking down at his hands. "You've got it all wrong. I never did any of that – I never stole from customers; I never killed anyone!"

"You never meant to kill him," Bobby said. "It was supposed to look like someone found the store open and disappeared with the cash. Or maybe you thought Ron would be blamed. You checked the parking lot, and you thought the store was empty..."

The lawyer smacked his hand on the table. "You're wasting your breath. My client has nothing more to say."

They all looked up at a knock on the door. It opened, and Captain Ross stepped in only long enough to hand a couple of stapled sheets to Alex.

She studied them for a few moments, then beckoned to her partner. The pages were merely photocopies of the information already in Alex's folder, but she pointed out a couple entries, arching her eyebrow as though she was surprised. Bobby took the papers and took a step back to lean against the mirror.

In the silence, Ackerman's self-control slipped even more. He rubbed his neck while Bobby and Alex delayed.

The lawyer recognized their tactic; he whispered in Ackerman's ear, clearly trying to settle his nerves.

Bobby didn't let Ackerman calm down. "This new bank account," he said. "You said you and your wife both use it?"

"Uhh, yeah... yes," Ackerman said.

"Because..." Bobby paused while he resumed his seat beside Alex. He tilted his head to whisper into her ear. "I'll step out and you... Okay?"

Ackerman had blundered into their trap, and Alex knew Bobby was eager to press ahead with the questioning. It was a gesture of immense generosity to offer it to her.

Bobby turned his attention back to Ackerman. "...Because that means we're going to need to talk to her, too." He stood abruptly; one long stride took him to the door, where he paused with his hand on the doorknob.

"My wife? What are you talking about?" Ackerman said, his voice rising.

"I'll, uh... take care of it," Bobby said. He met Alex's eye, nodded, and in another second he was gone.

Ackerman began to stand, but Alex was quicker. She jumped to her feet and jabbed her finger into his chest before he was halfway up. "You need to stay in your seat!"

Ackerman dropped heavily into his chair. His face had been red with anger; now he went pale. "He can't... Don't... She doesn't... My wife has nothing to do with any of this!"

Alex remained standing and kept her face stern. She pointed to the papers Ross had delivered. "The bank records say otherwise, Jim. My partner told you we'd be getting information from your other Safety Shield assignments. Well, now we know: the client losses and your cash deposits are too perfectly matched to be a coincidence."

They hadn't actually received that information from Safety Shield yet - it would likely take a few days – but Ackerman wasn't denying the accusation. They'd taken a shot in the dark and had hit the mark.

"And really," she said, "all of that pales in comparison to your final deposit on Tuesday morning." Alex didn't need to check, but she looked down at the paper anyway. "You deposited seven thousand seven hundred forty dollars in cash. That's the amount missing from Winter Market's safe and Robert Winter's wallet."

Ackerman and his lawyer both sat motionless now.

She took her time before continuing. She knew Bobby was watching from the observation room. He wouldn't wait too long before returning.

"It's adding up, Jim," she said. "The iPhone app, your financial problems, the stolen money... The DA is offering you ten years on a plea of involuntary manslaughter."

The lawyer whispered in Ackerman's ear, but he shook his head.

The door opened and Bobby entered. He said, "They'll be bringing in Mrs. Ackerman."

"No!" Ackerman said. "She has nothing to do with any of this!"

"Actually," Bobby said as he shrugged, "her name is the primary name on the account, and you told us she uses it – um, you said dog walking money, babysitting? That makes her an accomplice to all the thefts."

"And to Robert Winter's murder," Alex added.

Ackerman drew in a sharp breath, and his eyes grew wide with fear.

"The only way you can protect her is to confess," Bobby said, sliding into the chair across from Ackerman. "She doesn't use that account, does she?"

"No," Ackerman said. He looked down, pressing his fingers on his forehead. "I never told her. I thought it wouldn't attract attention if it had both our names."

"You never withdrew any money," Alex said. "You were saving up for something?"

"I wanted us to get out of New York," he replied. "Maybe Florida, or North Carolina... Just away from my mother-in-law."

Alex shook her head. Ackerman had sabotaged his own plans with bad choices at every turn.

"Sooo... On Monday," Bobby said, "you thought the store was empty?"

"The place was mostly dark," Ackerman said, nodding. "Winter must have been in the front of the store when I came in the back door. When I came out of the office, I practically bumped into him! I, uh, I tried to tell him I was there to check on the security system."

"But he didn't believe you," Bobby said. "Why?"

"The money was sticking out of my damn pockets."

In another few minutes they had a full confession. Robert Winter had pulled out his phone to call the police, but Ackerman knocked it out of his hand. There'd been a short struggle, and Winter went down, striking his head on the table. Ackerman had watched him die. Then, from his parked car down the block, he'd seen Ron arrive.

When Captain Ross and ADA Whitney joined them in the room, Ackerman accepted the plea deal rather than go to trial, which might involve his wife.

They watched as Ackerman was led away in handcuffs, followed by his lawyer and ADA Whitney.

Alex was glad they'd gotten the confession, but, as always, the thought of irreversible loss diluted her satisfaction. She remembered the tears of Frannie and Mrs. Winter at the cemetery.

"Leading-edge technology," Ross said. "For all the good it does, it can cause just as much damage."

"I don't blame the technology," Bobby said. "It comes down to people making choices."

Alex knew they were expecting a clever comment from her. "I need to call my mom," she said. She felt Bobby's light touch on her arm as she passed him.


	15. Chapter 15

**Home of Robert Goren**

**Wednesday, May28**

* * *

><p>Alex knew the door was open, but she knocked anyway. She heard Bobby call, "Come on in!"<p>

She'd been wondering what to expect this evening – they'd only discussed it briefly at work. If Bobby was nervous or stilted she was prepared to tease him until he loosened up. If, on the other hand, Bobby was overly romantic, she was prepared to use teasing in a different way, to bring him back to a sensible middle ground. After all, this was only a first date – or at least their first in a long time. She wanted to enjoy the process.

He came out of the kitchen area. "Hi," he said. "I'm kind of messy..." His fingers were coated with something – bread crumbs, maybe? He held his arms clear of her as he leaned down to greet her with a kiss- first on the lips and then on her cheek.

He returned to the kitchen.

Alex smiled to herself as she followed him. Bobby hadn't swung to either of her imagined extremes. She was pleased, but a little disappointed - she didn't get to tease him.

"It smells good in here," she said.

The mess turned out to be corn muffin batter, which he was trying to force into little cupcake papers, lined up on a cookie sheet.

"Need some help?" Alex asked. She went to the sink and began washing her hands.

He looked over his shoulder at her. "Yeah, thanks. I didn't finish the salad, if you don't mind. It's all there on the counter."

She dried her hands, but before she did anything else she checked the contents of the pots on the stove top. "Broccoli, rice – wow, Bobby, you were serious about cooking healthy." She opened the oven an inch. "Ahh, that really smells good! Is it my mom's recipe?"

"Mostly." He smiled as he scraped the last bits of batter. "I thought about making a cake, but I figured you wouldn't..."

"You figured right – no dessert," she replied, and moved aside for him to slide the tray of corn muffins into the oven. "You know, if we're going to keep this up you have to let me bring something."

Bobby shook his head as he stepped around her to wash his hands. Alex had anticipated an offer to let her contribute to future meals, but his silence was significant. She studied him. His attempted nonchalance gave him away: he had some plot in the works.

Alex didn't press. She'd find out one way or another. As long as he didn't try to fatten her up, she'd let him carry out his little scheme.

As she'd foreseen, they ended up talking about work during the meal. They'd attended the sentencing of Jim Ackerman that day. Ron Winter and John Lasalle had been there as well. No charges were brought against Ron. He and Frannie were going to share the business now. Alex and Bobby had sent their condolences and best wishes to Mrs. Winter and Frannie. Alex hadn't asked about Mark, and neither had her partner.

"Everything was delicious," Alex said after dinner. "Can I at least wash the dishes?" She rose from the table, and then she remembered something. "Oh, wait a sec. Stay right where you are." She laid her hand on Bobby's shoulder to keep him from getting up.

"What?" Bobby looked curious, but he obeyed.

She caught his cheeks in her hands and gently kissed his forehead, which now only showed faded traces of his cut and bruises.

"I've wanted to do that all week," she said, rubbing her fingers over the scab. "I know people joked about me clocking you with a baseball bat, but I felt sorry for your poor head."

Bobby's warm hands once again came to rest on her waist – this was a habit Alex could happily get used to. He drew her closer, and she dropped her hands to his shoulders.

"I've wanted to do this for a long time, too," he replied.

He touched his lips to hers. This kiss was a proper one – not just a quick greeting. Alex stayed close as the kiss extended.

When they finally drew apart, Alex smoothed Bobby's hair. "I like this kind of dessert," she said. She grinned at him. "Is that a Yes about me washing the dishes?"

He stole another kiss. "I'll wash, you dry."

The dishes were nearly done when Alex repeated her offer to contribute to their weekly dinners. "Hey Bobby," she said, lifting a large pot off the drain board, "How about if you come to my house next Wednesday? Maybe we can trade weeks."

Bobby shook his head.

"Why not? I'm not a bad cook, you know."

"You're a good cook, Alex..."

"But you don't want me to cook for you?" Alex set the dry pot on the counter, and reached for the next pan. She was a little annoyed at Bobby – she knew there was more to his refusal, and she wanted him to quit tiptoeing around it. "Come on, just tell me! Why don't you want me to cook for you?"

"I do, but..." Bobby scratched his neck. "But not on Wednesdays."

"What?" Water from the pan trickled down her wrists and arms into her pushed-back shirt sleeves as she stared at him, contemplating what he'd said.

Bobby smiled hesitantly. "You, um, you can pick your own day."

"Oh!" Her irritation vanished, and she smiled at him. "Why were you so coy about it?" she asked, flicking water off her fingers at him.

"Because I'm inviting myself to dinner at your place every week! I wasn't sure if you'd want to."

She only needed a second to decide. "I do. Okay, I want Sundays, because it'll be easier to shop on the weekends." She finished drying the pan and stepped right up to him. She was pleased when he reached out to hold her.

"Okay?" he asked. "Just like that?" His fingers feathered through her hair.

"Nooo." Alex had a suggestion of her own. "I expect you to take me out once in a while, too."

"I'd like that." He pulled her a little closer. "To a restaurant?"

"Or a movie."

"Maybe a concert in the park? Museum?"

"Sure. Hey, I'll even go up the Empire State Building if the weather's good." Alex was feeling mellow and relaxed as she returned Bobby's embrace.

"Good," Bobby said. His chin came to rest on top of her head. "Do you want tea or anything?"

"Mmm, no thanks," she murmured, rubbing his shirt. "I should go soon."

His arms tightened around her, which brought a smile to Alex. He asked, "So you're good with this? Wednesdays and Sundays?"

"Definitely," she said. "It's more fun to cook for someone than just for myself. Maybe I'll make a spaghetti sauce."

"Sounds good."

"I bet you already have next Wednesday's menu planned," Alex said.

"Ahh, sort of. I want to reintroduce you to curry."

She leaned back to look Bobby in the eye. "Reintroduce? Are you kidding me? Curry and I have irreconcilable differences."

"Eames, I promise, you're going to like it."

Alex had to smile. She didn't particularly want to try curry, but she couldn't bring herself to forbid Bobby. "It's my own fault for mentioning it in the first place," she said. "I should have expected this from my partner with the steel-trap memory."

He leaned down to kiss her. "You'll like it."

How did a full-grown man manage to look like a hopeful little boy? She shook her head slowly. "I probably will," she said. "But if not, you're going to owe me."

"Like what?" he said with a huge grin. "Coffee every morning?"

"Yes, for a week, plus a bottle of Pepto."

Bobby laid a hand over his heart. "I have a confession: I gave you curry tonight."

Alex laughed. "You what! Goren, I should smack you! Where was it?" She gripped his arms.

"In the chicken; I added it to the onion soup and wine. You loved it."

Alex had noticed a change from her mother's cooking, but had thought it was due to a different brand of soup. "I did – lucky for you."

"So, do I owe you coffee?"

"Nah, in fact I'll buy tomorrow." She stretched up to kiss him.

He reluctantly released her. "We have to wait four days-" He was interrupted by Alex's phone.

She pulled it out of her purse and checked the display. "It's Mom." Her heart sped up as she answered. "Hi, what's up?"

Bobby watched with concern as she spoke with her mother. Alex mostly listened, and kept her expression neutral. She tried not to give Bobby much of a clue as to the conversation.

"Hang on a sec," she said to her mother, and held the phone against her chest to speak to Bobby. "Ummm..."

"Is everything okay?" he asked.

"That depends," she replied. "How important are our dates?"

He tilted his head questioningly.

Alex continued, "We're invited for dinner next Wednesday. Looks like your curry fetish has been postponed." She grinned. "Mom comes first."

Bobby gazed at her thoughtfully, and then moved smoothly and quickly. He leaned down to kiss Alex's cheek, and simultaneously snatched the phone from her hand.

"Hi, it's Bobby," he said. "...It's all healed up now... Thanks, that'd be great. Wednesday is fine." He smiled at Alex, holding her at arm's length. "Do you think I could help you with the cooking?"

Alex shook her head – she knew her mother wouldn't give up control of her kitchen again.

"Oh, um, you see," Bobby said, still looking at Alex as he talked to her mom, "I have this eggplant recipe with curry I'd like to make for Alex."

He dodged out of the way as Alex lunged for the phone.

* * *

><p><strong>THE END<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>.<strong>


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